Exalted Walking on Broken Glass Book 6
by S.Hagen
Summary: Lightning and Courtesan have come to Chiaroscuro to lead the Faded Maiden away from their companions and to focus the attention of great powers on them instead of what their companions are attempting. However the City of Glass is not without its own dangers and threats of others beings and the Lunar and Abyssal will meet new enemies and perhaps new allies.
1. Chapter 1

**Exalted**

 **Walking on Broken Glass**

The Events in this story take place during the events in Secrets and Roguery

Story 6

 **Long Lost Reflections**

The soles of his articulated, orichalcum boots rang against the glass streets as he strode along the main thoroughfare. The crowds that lined the street paused in what they were doing to bow to him, some dropping to one knee as he passed.

Tall, with golden brown skin, dressed in a leather kilt, the muscles of exposed skin well defined. He was handsome, with curly black hair and dark blue eyes. A golden studded, leather strap that crossed his chest supported his golden daiklaive, the hilt over his left shoulder for an easy draw. Fox tattoos in golden ink ran up his arms to this chest.

He passed into the shadow of a glass tower, then beneath an arch of rose coloured glass, covered in creeping vines covered in white and gold blossoms.

Without pausing his hand went to the hilt of his weapon, but paused when a voice called out, "Calm down Arkin, the war is long over."

Arkin looked up to where a man in grey clung to the vines, suspended above him. "If the war is over Ghost, tell me why our enemies remain?"

Ghost dropped down, flipping about and landing in front of Arkin. His silk slippered feet were silent on the glass street. He straightened, standing a head shorter than the other man, and pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing a pointed, pretty face as well as long, red hair.

"They are imprisoned by their own names," Ghost told him.

"There are holes in the wall."

"By our own design."

Arkin frowned and shook his head. "The only enemy you need not worry about is the dead enemy."

Ghost pursed his lips. "With the Primordials that may not have been true."

He turned his head and spat. "Damn mess. We should destroy the Underworld."

"Perhaps. But at the moment we should turn our attention to our new city. Chiaroscuro is ours to build and shape. Once we have done so, then we might turn our gaze to the Underworld. Let the Twilights and other savants research it for now; better that we know the facts."

"I am not a fact type of person," Arkin said, crossing his thick arms over his barrel chest, tattoos shifting and sparkling.

"You are more of a smash them in the face with your sword until they die type of person."

Arkin smiled for the first time.

Ghost smiled as well.

"As we are talking of Twilights, where is ours?"

"Ferdam is beneath the city, seeking out the secrets that the Dragon Kings and the Primordials built here."

"More facts?"

"I am afraid so."

Arkin shook his head, then put his arm across Ghost's shoulders. "Let's go and get a drink my friend. We'll drink to the war."

"We always drink to the war."

Arkin nodded. "And we always will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Horse Trading in The City**

The white stallion was crazy. Lightning was pretty certain that crazy like that had been bred into it, because she doubted it would have come about by chance. Maybe it even came from some trace of god blood.

It was suitably afraid of her, so it behaved well enough, but she could sense its murderous intent. It wanted nothing more to kill the nearby gelding, to kill any horse that it might not breed with.

The gelding, with its good natured stupidity did not seem to realize it would be dead if Lightning let up her guard. It followed along, happy enough to avoid making choices.

It was a lot like Courtesan in that. Lightning still wanted to kill the Abyssal. That she still followed, apparently too stupid, perhaps willfully stupid, to realize the danger, just made Lightning feel angrier.

She looked back over her shoulder at the death knight. She followed, several horse lengths back, the burial cloak up about her head, protecting her, hiding her, from the sun.

It had taken them nearly a day to ride to Chiaroscuro. Ahead of them the glass city was catching the light of the sun and sparkling like a vast jewell. They had ridden through part of the night, resting for a few hours before setting off again. She had hoped to arrive at the city a little after sunrise but it would be midmorning when they rode into it.

They had left the road, avoiding getting caught up with the caravans and other travellers. She and Courtesan rode around the surrounding farms with their fields of grain and cotton. The slave workers avoided looking at the riders, and the few overseers Lightning saw did not seem interested as long as the riders passed by, keeping away from the fields.

The transition from farms to city was well defined for the city of broken glass simply and sharply started. The stallion tossed its head at the smells, but lightning thumped him hard on his side. They came in to one of the poorer areas; the citizens there watching them closely for signs of weakness or threat.

Lightning met the hungry gazes of the two legged city predators as she rode. Twice a few of the bolder ones stepped forward, two or three men in each group, with knives, demanding the riders stop.

In one case Lightning let the stallion have its head and kept balanced on its back as it kicked one of the men hard enough to send him crashing back, causing the others to run. The second time Lightning reached up and touched the hilt of her daiklaive. The silent threat caused the attackers to back off.

Soon they reached the more prosperous sections of the city and the desperate poor were no longer a threat.

She paused in a large square where people crowded around a fountain to get water. She tossed a young man a bit of silver to fill up a trough for the horses.

"Your horse's got crazy eyes," he told her, pouring a large ewer of water into the trough. His skin was a soft brown, his hair black, his eyes dark. He had soft features, but his hands looked like they were used to hard work.

"Know much about horses?"

"A little. Work at the livery stable across the way." He pointed at a squat looking building of glass and stone and wood. He turned and walked back to the fountain for another ewer of water.

She looked between the building and the speaker, taking in the quality of his clothing, the nature of his speech. When he returned to pour more water into the trough she said,"The stallion, I want to sell it. The gelding too."

"Gelding anyone would take off you. Stallion is trouble. Only an idiot would buy it."

Lightning smiled. "True enough. Know any idiots looking for breeding stock?"

He lifted the empty ewer and placed it on the lip of the trough. "Might know where to ask."

Lightning looked between horses and Courtesan then asked, "How tolong?"

He looked at her, then up at the sky. "Give me to noon?"

She nodded. "We'll be waiting at the tea stand over there."

"Tell them you are waiting on Calib, old lady Linzra might give you a discount. Won't cheat you no matter what."

"I'll do so."

Calib put the ewer to the side of the trough and then set off towards the stable.

"Go and get some tea," she told Courtesan before making sure the two horses would not cause any trouble as they drank. Once both had had their fill she tied them up to a hitching post, then gave the stallion a hard stare, growling at it softly. The horse shied slightly, lowering its head. Satisfied the horse would not be trouble for a time she left it.

When she came to the tea stand Courtesan was sitting on a bench, a large umbrella had been erected to give her shade. She was drinking tea from a porcelain cup.

"Look pretty well suited to that," Lightning said as she leaned her sword up against the stall.

"Dolls and tea parties," she said softly.

Lighting laughed humourlessly as she sat heavily on the bench, keeping as far from Courtesan as she could.

The stall owner came out, carrying a tray with more tea and various small foods on it. "For you and your friend child," she said to Courtesan, putting the tray down between them. She smiled warmly at Courtesan.

"We're waiting for Calib," Lightning said as she picked up a cup, wondering at the woman's attention to Courtesan.

She looked from Courtesan to Lightning. "He's a good lad, and you are welcome to wait." She looked at Courtesan again and smiled, but after a moment gave her head a slight shake. "As long as you are paying of course. Sorry."

Lightning put some silver down on the tray before picking up a bit of pastry.

The woman, old lady Linzra, hovered and doted on Courtesan, making sure she was comfortable. Lightning did not mind so much, and being on the fringe of such care was pleasant enough. She was never lacking for tea or something to eat. The shade was cool, there was a slight breeze and it was not too crowded around the stand.

"Did you do anything to her?" Lightning asked when Linzra had left them alone.

Courtesan shook her head.

"Her attention to you seems unnatural."

"I am very pretty," she said, with no boasting in her tone. "Even before," she paused, "there were people who wanted to look after me."

"I find that hard to credit," Lightning said and turned away from the Abyssal to watch the people.

"You hate me though," Courtesan said so softly that Lightning was not certain she was supposed to hear it. She chose not to answer and simply enjoyed being able to rest.

It was a little before noon, and Lightning was thinking she could not drink another cup of tea, when Calib returned.

"What's the news?" Lightning asked as she got to her feet.

"There is a buyer, will probably pay well... He'll be here soon."

"What's your commission?"

Calib smiled. "My boss wants ten percent."

"And what do you get?"

"Half of that."

"Respectable. Are you his son or nephew?"

Calib shook his head. "Gods no, thank them all. Smarter than any of them by half, and boss knows it."

Lightning nodded. "I'll do ten percent."

"Good. Boss and Pajou will be here soon. Pajou's Delzahn noble. Will pay well, but," he took a few moments to think, "is not above claiming an insult and using duelling to help him get what he wants."

"I understand."

"Good, good. I can get a decent bit of silver out of this if it goes right."

Lightning smiled and returned to her seat, watching Calib watch the crowd.

It was easy to pick up when the two men entered the square. People seemed to find reason to get out of their way. Or his way, Lightning thought, giving Pajou a good look over. He was tall, with long, oil slicked hair, and he wore a veil. His clothing was fine, as was the sheathed sword he carried.

Calib's boss was a middle aged man in well made, durable clothing, heavy with muscle and a deliberate way of moving that Lightning associated with someone who worked with animals, as if afraid a sudden move would spook a horse.

They went directly towards the white stallion; the boss stopped before getting too close, but Pajou took a few steps closer, which almost earned him a hoof to the gut. He stepped back gracefully, just enough to avoid the blow. Lightning could see why he made use of the duelling laws.

Calib waved his boss and the noble over.

"Welcome to Chiaroscuro visitors," the boss said loudly as he approached where Lightning and Courtesan sat.

Lightning got to her feet, put a hand on Courtesan's shoulder to keep her seated. She quickly pulled it away.

"I am Dover, the employer of young Calib, and it is my honour to present Pajou of the Delzahn."

Lightning inclined her head. "Thank you for your welcome."

"You own the white beast?" Pajou asked, the courtesy of introductions over.

"I do."

"I've heard of a horse like it, out in the Yellow Leaf Oasis."

"That is where I bought it from. Cinnamon sold it to me, happy to have someone who could bring it to the city."

"The stallion is unbroken."

"Very true. It is an evil beast, kill crazy really. Someone bred unwell. Let me tell you true Pajou of the Delzahn, you would be a fool to buy this horse, for it will be a blight."

"You are a poor merchant, and I do not care to be called a fool."

Lightning smiled at him, shifted her posture to that of lazy unconcern, put her hand on the support pole so it rested near the hilt of her sword.

Dover and Calib looked nervously between the two.

"I never claimed to be a merchant, and a fool may be proved a genius if he thinks hard enough. Kill crazy he might be, but put a mare in season in his paddock and he'll happily sate his lusts in a manner less violent. If a breeder knows his business he'll see some fine animals sired."

Pajou relaxed slightly and nodded. "And no one could say you lied about the disposition of the stallion."

"I am but an honest traveller."

"Very well honest traveller. How much for the stallion."

"Four hundred pieces of trade weight silver."

Pajou's mouth dropped open for a moment, and Dover took a step backward.

"Ridiculous," Pajou said.

"It is ridiculous, but it is also the price I am asking for."

"And if I refuse?"

Lightning smiled again. "Then I will find the man whose horses are just that little bit better than yours, who does not like you, and I will sell the stallion to him. I am sure he will pay the silver, just to keep you in your place."

Pajou's hand dropped to the hilt of his sword and he had started to draw it when Lightning stopped him with her palm against the pommel. She had stepped close and they stood almost toe to toe. "You are angry enough to pay four hundred silver."

He seemed surprised by how fast she had moved, and that unnerved him. "I suppose I am." He moved away from her, releasing the hilt, relaxing as if nothing had happened. "Four hundred silver for the stallion. You will bring it to my estate."

"Of course. If you lead the way I will follow now."

Pajou nodded. "Agreed."

Dover was staring at Lightning, wide eyed, but Calib was smiling, likely thinking of his part of the forty silver coins he would receive.

Lightning did not fear treachery on Pajou's part, at least not yet. He would pay and then, if he chose, retaliate later.

The ride to his estate, one of the glass towers in the new city, was peaceful enough. Lightning led the white though the stables, out into a fenced paddock. Pajou gave his stable master orders to keep everyone away from the horse, see it watered and fed, then led Lightning into his home.

The man's office was full of various treasures, including a gold rack which held a single prayer scroll in place of pride. He unlocked a cabinet and removed several leather pouches from which he counted out the four hundred silver.

When Lightning had taken the money he asked, "How much for your slave."

Courtesan had been following, quiet, and while Lightning had not forgotten the death knight, she had dismissed her from her thoughts.

"She is not for sale."

It was not an answer that Pajou liked, and he did a poor job of hiding it. "Very well then, our business is done." His tone was petulant.

Lightning bowed respectfully. "My thanks to you Pajou of the Delzahn. May your horses be the finest in the city."

"And may your way be easy and profitable."

Lightning smiled again and left the room, Courtesan at her heels.

Calib was waiting for them, watching the gelding and waiting for Dover's cut.

"We still have not sold your other horse," he said with a smile after Lightning had given him forty of the silver coins.

"I give him as a gift to you," Lightning said.

"Surely that is too generous," Calib answered, but he was looking appreciatively at the horse.

"Well, not a gift then, but payment."

"Payment for what?"

"Dover does not leave you in that square, watering travellers' horses because that is all you are good for. You watch and see. I want you to see for me as well."

Calib looked between Lightning and the horse, a thoughtful look on his face. "I will not betray my boss."

"I am not asking you to."

He nodded. "I accept your proposal. How will I find you if I learn something of value?"

Lightning put a hand on his shoulder and winked. "I'll find you if I need to talk."

* * *

Courtesan watched the young man ride away on a horse she was not sorry to see go. She preferred comfortable carriages, or even uncomfortable wagons, to horseback. Lightning seemed happy enough, with her profit, and taking it from an unpleasant man.

Lightning handed her the saddlebags that had come off the gelding. "Come on."

Courtesan shouldered the weighty bags and followed the Lunar off into the city.

"Are we being followed?" Lightning asked a few minutes later as they made their way through an open air plaza.

"One man, we passed him in the halls on our way out of that Pajou's home," Courtesan told her.

"Which one?"

"The skinny, bald one."

"Keep an eye on him, let me know if you see any others," she ordered in a terse tone.

Courtesan watched as they left the plaza, considering the way that the man followed after him, what he did and how he did it.

"He's not moving like he has backup," she said quietly.

"Move," Lightning said, breaking into a quick jog. Ahead of them a yeddim drawn cart was moving across the road. Ducking around it took them out of the sight of their pursuer. Lightning led the way into an alley between two, broken, glass towers.

"Up there," Lightning said, pointing to a balcony three floors above them.

Courtesan went up the glass wall, struggling a little against the weight of the the saddle bags and pack. She was up on the balcony hidden by the railings by the time the bald man looked into the alley.

She did not know what Lightning had done or where she had gone. She watched as the man walked further into the alleyway. He did not look up and Courtesan did not fear she would be seen.

He was about halfway down the alley when the huge desert cat leapt from a recessed doorway. Courtesan gasped, but the sound was loss in the cat's roar.

The bald man fell back, turned, and scrambled away on his hands and knees. He was on his feet and running by the time he reached mouth of the alley. He did not look back.

When Courtesan looked back to the alley she saw Lightning standing below her, motioning Courtesan to come down.

She was on the ground in seconds, and following Lightning out the far end of the alley, onto another busy street. Several times Courtesan opened her mouth, as if to speak, and they had walked several blocks before she worked up the courage to ask, "Him being attacked by a lion will be suspicious, won't it?"

Lightning did not look back, and she did not answer. Courtesan shoulders hunched up as she followed, and her gaze dropped to the street. She jumped a little when Lightning spoke. "It was a spotted leopard, not a lion, and such a breed may be found as a pet among the rich in this city. And I have already shown myself good with animals, so that I might have had such a pet would be considered a possibility. Pajou is not going to try to get a Wyld Hunt to come after us."

A little surprised that she had been answered Courtesan said nothing for several seconds before finally saying, "Oh."

They walked in silence for some time before Lightning suddenly turned into one of the shops that lined the road. Courtesan followed her in, a little surprised to find herself in a brightly lit shop, racks on the walls holding various bows, small barrels holding all manner of arrows. The large room was split in half by a large counter, on the other side of it was workshop where more bows and arrows were being crafted.

"Welcome," said the short, thin man who came out from behind the counter. He wore a leather apron over his work clothes, his long, brown hair tied back from his face.

"Good afternoon," Lightning said, looking about the shop. "Tell me about that one," she pointed to a bow near the counter.

Courtesan looked to where Lightning pointed. Locked in a glass case was a bow made up of pulleys and a series of cables anchored to the bow staves. She had never seen such a bow before.

"An eye for the exotic eh?" the man said, smiling as he went to the case and opened it. He removed the bow and held it out.

"Lookshy Strongbow?" Lightning asked.

"Their design yes, but," and the man took on what Courtesan thought of as a bashful look, "I managed to copy it. Hard to make of course, the metallurgy of the pulleys is very tricky."

Lightning took it from the man, looked it over, then turned and held it out to Courtesan. "What do you think?"

Surprised once again, it was several seconds before Courtesan reached out and took it. After looking it over she took hold of the string and drew it back. It was easily as hard to draw back as any other bow she had drawn, but once she had it fully drawn the force let off. She slowly reversed her draw until the string was once more straight. "It will need a little adjustment," she said, looking the weapon over. "The draw weight is good."

"Can you do it?"

"If he will show me the technique," she looked at the man.

"The bow and the adjustments, how much?" Lightning asked him.

"I would have to ask for a thousand pieces of silver for such a fine weapon."

"Include a case, a hundred arrows of her choice, glove and bracer for two hundred silver, 10 bits of jade, and these four rubies." She put the multifaceted, rectangular cut gems on the counter."

Courtesan watched the man consider the gems, his face creased in concentration for a moment, then he smiled. "Accepted."

Lightning look back at Courtesan. "Get the bow adjusted and then pick out the rest."

Courtesan wondered as she walked over to the man if she was seeing kindness from the Lunar, or if Lightning just wanted her armed so Courtesan could defend herself.

Part of her wanted to see it as a kindness, but she supposed that was a very stupid part of herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cold Rain Comes to Chiaroscuro**

The sun had almost set when the three masted clipper came around the great glass breakwaters of Chiaroscuro's harbour, sliding into the smooth waters within. There were other ships at anchor within the area enclosed by the breakwaters. As the clipper moved deeper within the harbour sails were pulled up and lashed to the masts, slowing so it could move safely among the other traffic.

Cold Rain watched it from the stern of the ship, off to the side where he did not interfere with the crew. It had been several days since he had boarded the ship and he had not made any friends among those that worked her.

Not that he had sought friendship. They were a quiet bunch, hard working, and polite. He suspected they knew the nature of their employer, of the cargoes that she might have them carry.

"We'll be a day before docking," the ship's captain said.

She was a short woman, stocky, with tanned smooth skin and dark brown hair.

"And me?" Cold Rain asked her.

"Your way off approaches." She looked out over the water.

Cold Rain followed the direction of her gaze, saw the small, dark form of a boat moving towards him.

"Thank you for the skilled passage," Cold Rain told her, then left. He sought his cabin, and those things most important to him. The Monstrance and the zombie. "Come along mother," he said as he grabbed the webbing of rope wrapped around the monstrance and heaved it from the floor. There are already scars in the wood from when the heavy object had first been brought into the cabin; Cold Rain felt no guilt in adding more.

He made it to the deck and placed the monstrance down on the port side of the ship, farthest from the shore and any eyes that might be watching. The wood of the deck creaked as the weight of the soul steel came down on it. A few crew members eyed him, the burden, and the zombie.

"Get to work," the Captain said loudly as she walked towards him.

Those crew climbed the rigging, fixed a pulley system to one of the masts and then ran lines down to the monstrance. Cold Rain fixed the lines to the monstrance himself, making sure they were tight.

By that time the boat had come up along side them. It was about thirty feet long, a single mast was down and lashed to the side of the boat. Several oarsmen were seated near the stern and had shipped the oars.

"Lower it," the captain ordered.

The designated crew members pulled on the lines, lifting the monstrance off the deck. A guideline was tossed to the boat below. The rowers ignored it but a man stepped from the bow and grabbed it. "Lower away," he called up to them.

In less than a minute the monstrance was down, laid on its side in the boat. With the weight of it the small craft was riding low in the water. The man who had guided it was pulling a tarp over it as Cold Rain carried the zombie down into the boat. "Stay here mother," he said softly as he pushed her down to kneel on the decking.

"Give me a hand with this," the man said as he pulled the lashing tight. "I suspect you do not wish to see it go over." He laughed softly.

Cold Rain moved to help the man, taking the ropes he held out and working to create a cargo web that would keep the monstrance in place, even if the boat were to capsize.

Once they were done the man stood and looked to the rowers. "Ho. On with it."

Still and silent until then, the rowers lowered their oars and began to row. It was quiet but for the sound of the oars cutting through the water. Cold Rain was certain they were dead.

"I am Ambrose," the man said. "Necromancer in service to the Lady who has sent you here."

Cold Rain had watched the man as they worked securing the monstrance, watched him as he spoke. "You're Terrestrial Exalted, aren't you?"

"I am. Ghost Blooded they call my kind."

"That tells me something about the job. Can we speak here?"

"Voices often carry well over water, but not on this boat. Speak as you wish."

"What am I here for?"

"My lady, your employer, wants the Shadowlands and the dragon lines in this city mapped completely. She says there are forgotten secrets that must be remembered."

"I am not a geomancer.

"Then it is fortunate that I am. However, the places I need to go, they can be dangerous."

"And her last servant?"

"His insanity was unsettling at first, but controllable. He then became far too interested in collecting treasures and less in doing his job. His loss is not really a loss."

"Your lady seems to think he was killed by an exalt, some wandering terrestrial."

"That is indeed possible, perhaps even likely."

Cold Rain considered the statement. "But there might also be someone of significant power in the city who does not like the dead."

"And that is why someone of your skills is here. I suspect that you will not be concerned if you are not liked."

Cold Rain smiled. "Why does she want to know of the city's shadow lands and its secrets?"

"She has never told me and it has never been my place to ask. I will tell you that for a city that has seen so much death, there are remarkably few Shadowlands within it. The foundations of the city were lain by my Lady's true masters."

Cold Rain thought about it. "Remove the protection and turn the city into a Shadowland, or learn it well enough and weaponize it."

"That is of course supposition," Ambrose told him.

"Which gives my employer the ability to deny any wrong doing." Cold Rain smiled again, certain he could work with the Black Heron and her servants.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well Met, Ill Met in Chiaroscuro**

Lightning did not know any Silver Pact operatives in the South, but she knew signs to look for and the code words to use.

A small bakery by the docks with distinctive lettering on its sign. The use of rosemary in one of the breads they baked. The owner's dark orange headband that kept her hair back as she rolled out the dough.

Any one of them on its own would have been enough for Lightning to take a chance. All three together were a certainty.

A few code phrases were exchanged as well as some money and in short order Lightning walked out of the bakery with a loaf of the rosemary bread.

Courtesan was standing in the shadow of a big, dockside warehouse, nearly invisible. Lightning might not have seen her if she had not known where to look.

Taking up a position by the warehouse, Lightning folded back the cloth that the bread was wrapped in. It was fresh, and steam came from the loaf as she tore it open. She pulled a large piece free and stuffed it into her mouth.

Delicious she thought, chewing slowly as she felt along the cloth, her fingers touching small piece of folded paper.

Swallowing she tore another piece of the bread free, palming the bit of paper at the same time. She pushed that piece of bread into her mouth, began to chew on it.

As she ate a few children wandered close, looking at her, the bread she held.

Street kids.

She had seen a lot in the area. All of them looking for a handout.

Lightning looked towards one of them. A tall boy, with blonde hair and the dark skin of the desert dwellers. "Hungry?" she asked, folding the cloth back over the loaf.

"Maybe," the boy said, staring openly at the bread.

"Seen any strangers around?" Lightning asked, her voice a little softer.

The boy and the two children with him (another boy and a small, thin child who could be either boy or girl) moved a little closer.

"Docks," the boy looked about. "All strangers."

"You know what I mean you little shit," she said with a smile.

"No one you'd care to look at twice."

Lightning tossed the remainder of the loaf to him. "No one would care to look at me twice, right?"

The boy had caught the loaf, held it tight. He nodded.

"Piss off," she told him.

All three ran off, already tearing the loaf up into equal parts as they went.

"Do you think they won't tell anyone about you?"

Lightning was not quite surprised by Courtesan, had not quite forgotten the woman's presence. "He can tell people, but what he saw was what I wanted him to see."

Courtesan nodded.

"Come on," she said, more of an edge to her voice than she intended. "I've got to meet with someone." She started away from the docks, only looking at the piece of paper once she was sure no one was watching her. An address and directions had been written on the paper in small, neat letters. She guessed it was about twenty minutes away.

The directions eventually led her to a building, among a number of similar buildings. The people walking in and out of them were mostly well dressed, foreigners and Delzahn alike. Lightning supposed they were trading houses of sorts, or perhaps the offices of money lenders.

She suspected that she might attract attention were she to walk in through the front doors. Instead she circled around back, to where the servants' entrances were, where mostly young boys dressed in different livery came running in and out, dashing off into the city on some errand or another.

Guards stood at all the back entrances, some simply occupying space, others looking competent. Lightning was not surprised the most dangerous looking of the bunch watched over the door Lightning sought.

The guard put a hand to his sword hilt, watching her.

Lightning took the paper she had been given and held it between two fingers. "It smells of rosemary."

After a moment the guard nodded and shifted to the side so that she might enter.

Courtesan followed close on Lightning's heels and the guard started as the small woman walked past him.

Beyond the door was a medium sized room in which several boys and girls sat. Near the door that led deeper into the building was a simple table of black wood behind which an old man sat, bent over a ledger, writing. The young ones were dressed in blue and silver livery, the old man in the desert robes of the Delzahn.

Everyone but the old man looked at Lightning, curiosity open on their faces.

Lightning stopped a few paces from the desk and said, "I have a message for Rosemary."

The writing paused for a moment. "You mean Mr. Orvon."

"Yes."

"Ephem."

"Yes sir," one of the boys behind her said, his feet thumping on the floor and the legs of a chair scraping. Lightning pictured him jumping out of the chair.

"Take this messenger to Mr. Orvon's office, and no dawdling."

"Yes sir. This way," Ephem said as he walked past Lightning and pushed open the door.

Lightning supposed that messengers and visitors were not uncommon, for the boy showed little interest in them, and took them quickly to an office on the second floor.

"Mr. Orvon, messenger to see you," the boy said after he knocked.

"Come." The voice muffled by the door was deep.

Ephem pushed the door open and stepped aside so Lightning could enter.

Mr. Orvon was a thick man, broad in the shoulder, thick muttonchops almost hiding his jowls. He looked at her, eyes widening slightly. Lightning knew he recognized what she was. She was almost certain that he was silver blooded, a child of a Lunar. "Very good Ephem. You may go."

"Yes sir." Ephem closed the door and Lightning heard the sound of his footsteps as he quickly walked away.

"Have a seat," Mr. Orvon said as he stood. Lightning was a little surprised, for as thick as he was, Orvon was actually a shorter man, probably no taller than Courtesan, though much more broader than the Abyssal. "Would you like refreshments?"

"Just some water for now," Lightning said and then after a few moments looked to Courtesan.

She actually flinched and in a soft voice said, "Water as well."

Mr. Orvon came from around his desk, went to a cabinet along one wall. He filled two glasses with water from a pitcher. From a box he removed a block of ice. Lightning took a seat, watched as he broke some of the ice free with a pick, used tongs to put the broken ice into the water. He put the cube back in the box and then carried the glasses to the desk and put them on the desk in front of Lightning and Courtesan.

"So, what can I help you with?" he asked, returning to his seat.

"My name is Lightning, I've been operating in the Scavenger lands. I want to make sure that I am not going to step on toes."

"Lightning? You put down the Tyrant of Thorns." His tone was uncertain.

"I had help."

"Can we expect you to do something similar here?"

"No. But trouble may be following me."

"Trouble?"

"A Death Knight, an assassin."

"Won't be the first assassin to come to Chiaroscuro."

"I'll lead her away if she comes here."

Mr. Orvon sat back in his chair.

Lightning picked up her glass. The ice had melted a little and the surface felt cool under her fingertips. She took a drink, rolled the sliver of remaining ice onto her tongue.

"If the experiment falls to a single Death Knight then Tamas Kahn failed in the forging. I am concerned for my people."

"Your people should be fine. If I have any reason to think otherwise I will let you know."

"Very well." He nodded. "Can we help you?"

"I need a safe place to stay, and information. I can pay for both if it will help."

"I appreciate that. And I can provide you with both."

"We arrived in the city yesterday. We've been on the move since then. I may have made an enemy with a Delzahn, a man named Pajou."

"He's powerful, but easily avoided. I know a place where neither he nor his agents are likely to visit."

"That's a start," Lightning said as she finished her water.

* * *

The Delightful and Precise Mechanism of Truth moved along the hidden highways of Chiaroscuro's underground. While much of the city above had been ruined, much of the vast subterranean levels remained extant. One of the reasons for that was that they were insanely dangerous. There were places the Alchemical exalt would not go, at least without backup.

For those places she would go The Delightful and Precise Mechanism of Truth, Del Pret to most, patrolled and studied. She studied them to learn more about the Solars of old and that which they built and refined. She patrolled them to keep what she studied safe.

There were always people and things that would travel the underways, and most of them never went too deep or caused any damage, so Del Pret left them alone. Though she made a point of watching them.

She was watching one of them now.

He had been beneath the city before. A Dragon Blood and necromancer. It was an interesting combination which made her curious, and as he was not damaging anything nor travelling into areas Del Pret considered to be protected she had chosen to leave him alone.

His appearance in the tunnels beneath the city was curious, for he travelled with a man dressed in soul steel. It was not that he had always come alone before, but those times his servants had been lower class dead, zombies and the like. His current bodyguard looked competent.

As Del Pret followed she suspected the necromancer believed his bodyguard to be competent as well, for the pair were making their way towards areas the necromancer had avoided before.

That would not do, she decided, slipping her gyro chakram free from where they were holstered at her hips. There was a small puff of steam as the moonsilver razors slid free from the main body and began to spin.

She assumed the bodyguard was dangerous, but it was the necromancer who led. If the necromancer was dead the bodyguard would not matter (though she might still have to kill him). So the necromancer would be her target.

She dashed along a thin conduit, appearing as a smeared out blur as her cloaking system was overwhelmed by the speed of movement, but the sound of her passage was still muffled.

Below her the two had entered a large chamber, the bodyguard moving to the fore, concerned about danger from where they went and not where the had come from.

Del Pret leapt between the conduit and a balcony of sorts on the far wall, releasing both chakram as she did so they could seek their target.

* * *

Cold Rain had moved ahead, having been told they were entering an area that Ambrose had no knowledge of.

His attention was focused on the doorways ahead, and the several shadowed alcoves to either side of him. Behind him Ambrose cried out. Cold Rain spun about. He was still trying to make sense of what he was seeing even as he moved.

Ambrose was pitching forward, blood spraying from the spinning blades of the weapon that had wounded the Dragon Blood. A second spinning blur was in the air and without knowing what it was Cold Rain stepped towards it and lashed out with his scythe.

The two weapons clashed with a ring of metal, and Cold Rain watched the weapon he had deflected spin about and then come around again for another pass.

Who had weapons like that?

A moment while the weapon reacquired its target gave him time to look around. The first weapon that had wounded Ambrose was arcing back towards a balcony of sorts high up on the wall.

Was there a blur up there?

He had to return his attention to Ambrose as he grabbed the man and pushed him behind, sweeping out his scythe to once more knock the flying weapon away.

Gaze darted up to the balcony. The blur took on the form of a person as the first weapon was caught and then hurled again.

Two of those weapons in play. He did not like Ambrose's chances.

"Can you protect yourself?" Cold Rain swung his scythe out, knocking the second weapon aside, his reverse swing catching the returning first. He put more strength into the blow, hoping to send the weapon crashing into a wall.

"Not for long," Ambrose answered, his tone pained.

"Do what you can."

He charged forward, hoping that the Dragon Blood might survive, his eyes on the blurring up on the wall, the attacker.

He leapt up, foot hitting the rough wall, sole of his boot sliding a bit before it caught. Driving himself up, climbing the wall, his boots finding small holds, it almost was as if he ran up the wall.

It was likely the attacker did not expect it.

A final push took him up above the attacker, a woman, or at least woman shaped.

Sweeping down with his scythe he slashed at her before dropping back down to the floor.

* * *

Del Pret was surprised.

Del Pret was badly hurt.

Those two things were connected.

She had underestimated the bodyguard. Who would have thought he might attack that fast, hit with such strength? Holding out her hands she called her chakram back to her. It was not possible for her to fight someone that strong. It was unlikely they would accept her surrender. So flight was the order of the day.

These thoughts were nearly instantaneous, cackling along adamant filaments woven into her brain. It had been less than a heartbeat since the scythe had sliced her and she was already running,

* * *

Cold Rain looked up at the empty alcove. "Will you live?" He did not look back at Ambrose, watching for attack.

"I've been better, but I do not think I will die."

"Good. We need to follow her."

"Why?"

"Because until she is dead she is a threat." He finally turned his attention to Ambrose, trying to gauge how badly the man was hurt.

"Yes, I suppose she is. As long as you don't need me to fight, I can keep up."

"Good." He reached out and ran his finger along the blade of his scythe. What came away from the steel was not blood. He rubbed it between his fingers and then brought it close to his nose to smell. After a moment he said, "Follow me and stay close. I would not put it beyond this enemy to arrange an ambush if you fall behind."

* * *

The wound was slowing her down, but Del Pret did her best to keep moving, pushing forward, towards the surface. She left short lived spy drones in her wake, extruded from her wrists, as she went. At first she had been hopeful that she would not be followed, but soon that hope had been crushed.

She was being followed, and they were moving faster than she.

They would be delayed by some of the paths she took; presented with difficulties engendered by their ignorance of the paths.

But she did not think they would be stopped.

Del Pret did not want to die far from her home, with so much undone.

Someone would have to stand as her champion against this threat.

She believed she knew where to find one.

* * *

Mina opened her sake jug and took a long drink before lowering the clay vessel and corking it. Around her she could hear the sounds of dragging footsteps, the ragged not breathing of something that had once lived and had forgotten how.

"Where do all these damn things come from?"

"No idea," Meep answered from a shadowy corner up near the roof of a building.

"You'd think that someone would report the deaths."

"What if they were slaves, or visitors or come up from a Shadowland?"

"To what purpose?"

Meep did not answer which did not surprise Mina. It had been a rhetorical question after all.

The first of the hungry ghosts came from a doorway, a hissing scream flowing from its ruined mouth. Mina snapped her serpent sting staff out and crushed its skull, the stave continuing down to shatter most of its rib case.

Another of the ghosts leapt from a window, but it was yanked to a sudden stop by a loop of rope around its throat. Meep dropped from her perch, her weight pulling the ghost upwards. As ghost and Meep passed she struck it with one of her black widow razors. The ghost went up, a flaming light as its dark essence was set ablaze.

She looped the end of the artifact rope around a piece of wreckage and moved close to Mina. "I think there are about ten of them."

"There are too many dead in this city," Mina said as she smashed another of the ghosts, one end of her multi-rod weapon shattering its legs, the other its spine.

"It is suspicious," Meep answered as she ducked a ghost's lumbering grab and came up slicing its arms off and setting it ablaze.

"Someone is making a play on this city maybe." Mina moved forward, sweeping the serpent sting staff about her, scattering ghosts and their bones as she finished off three more. "People and things are always making a play for this city."

"We don't know that anyone new is doing so." Behind her Meep was dealing with her own ghosts. "Or that these things have anything to do with it."

"I know this city is a prize." She wrapped her weapon around a ghost, crushing it within the coils of the rods, at the same time she stamped her foot down and broke the ankle of another.

Less than a minute later she and Meep stood in the deserted street, a ghost's body sputtering out as it burned away.

"I'm getting tired of all these dead. Regular ghosts minding their own business I can ignore, but all these damn mindless dead… I want to find out who is making them. Someone has to be making them."

"How do you want to do that?"

Mina looked about. "Wander around the deserted parts of the city until we get lucky?"

"Yeah, that will be effective." Meep's tone was more than a little sarcastic.

"I think you will be gagged when we get home." She looked over her shoulder at the smaller woman.

Meep smiled back and then the smile faded as she turned her head. "Someone is coming."

Letting her serpent sting staff run through her hands, the ends thumping on the ground as Mina turned to look in the direction Meep had indicated.

She was not sure what to expect.

Del Pret, stumbling around a ruined building was not it.

"Oh, very good, I've found you," she said, almost falling at Mina's feet.

Mina moved forward, caught the heavy woman, felt the slick, wetness of something that was almost blood.

"What happened?"

The Alchemical looked up at Mina. "Once more I have made a mistake in who I attacked. Unfortunately this one was not as kind as you."

Mina frowned as she considered what Del Pret had told her. "Another Solar?"

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head.

"You've led them here," Meep said. She was looking about.

"True."

"How did you know…"

"I've learned your patterns," Del Pret told her.

"She's stalking you," Meep said to Mina, her tone more than a little petulant.

"Meep dear, jealousy does not become you."

"Well, I suppose I am stalking you a little," Del Pret said, straightening her legs with Mina's support.

"See."

"Meep you'll be getting the paddle, now be quiet."

"Yes Mistress," she replied in a sulky tone. She reached out for her rope.

"How close are they?" Mina asked Del Pret.

"Perhaps a minute behind me."

"Less than that," Meep said, head cocked to the side as she listened to some far off sound.

"Well, let's prepare a welcome for them."

* * *

Cold Rain knelt down, put his fingers to a small dot of wetness. The blood like substance that had leaked from the attacker. Probably fresh, hard to tell for certain. Raising his head he looked around the ruins.

"Something wrong?" Ambrose asked.

"She's running, pausing, probably to rest, making for the city proper."

"And that is a problem."

The Abyssal's lip twisted into a frown. "It looks like she's running, but I can't help but feel she's leading us."

"This is a Shadowland, one I am passing familiar with," Ambrose told him. "There is nothing here that could be a threat to us, and, well, we're not alone."

Cold Rain did not look, but was certain Ambrose had swept his hands out.

They had gathered 'allies' as they had pursued the attacker. Ghosts for the most, some well preserved zombies and a few necromantic constructs. It was not an insignificant force and it seemed impossible that the woman he pursued could know that such a force could be gathered.

"We can only be ready for anything. I will not let her get away." Cold Rain stood and started forward, a quick jog along the ancient, shattered roads of the old city ruins. Looking back over his shoulder he warned Ambrose, "Stay to the rear."

The trail led between two buildings, into a ruined square, filled with broken glass and stone.

Cold Rain paused on the edge, gaze sweeping the cluttered corners, the empty windows.

He turned, a faint whirring his only warning, lifting his scythe. The spinning saw style chakram hit the shaft of the weapon, barely missing his fingers. He heard sounds of surprise, explanations of pain. He turned to see a second chakram cut a path among ghosts, almost hitting Ambrose.

"Get back," he yelled, picking out the two chakram as they flew back towards the window of one of the buildings.

Dashing forward, faster than any mortal might, crossing the square in a heartbeat, he reached the wall of the building. A leap took him higher than the height of a man, and he sailed through the empty window frame, shoulders almost scraping the edges.

Feet sliding on the cracked and uneven glass floor, he found himself facing the woman who had attacked he and Ambrose, her back was to a wall, she was holding the chakram in her hands.

He said nothing, just stepped forward, scythe raised for a killing blow.

Something wrapped around his arm between wrist and elbow, hard, only his soulsteel pate armour protecting his limb. He was pulled off balance, spun away from the woman, nearly yanked off his feet. Shifting his feet, turning, he freed his arm and came face to face with his new attacker.

A woman, dark hair, hard to be certain of the colour in the shadows, dark cheongsam, a multi-section staff made of gold. It might just be gold, but he doubted it. Orichalcium.

Had to be.

Which meant she was probably a Solar.

Thrice dammed Solars.

All that was but an instant of thought.

His spin continued, scythe lashing out, the dark essence of the underworld leaving afterimages that looked like blooming flowers. Of the many strikes at least one should have struck true, but all were turned and he found himself standing nearly toe to toe with her.

She was tall for a woman, though not quite as tall as he. There was a scent around of, of rice wine. Her dress was tight on her lithely muscled form. When she moved she moved like a snake, darting, fast.

The rod she had used to deflect his scythe blows dropped down, slamming hard against his arm, knocking him slightly off balance, the ends of the weapon snaking around him.

In a moment he was imprisoned in the embrace of the weapon, his upper arms pinned to his side, his range of motion almost zero.

Voice filled with the power of the underworld he bellowed, "Release me!"

The slackening of the sectional staff was only a little, only a moment, but it was enough for him to slip away, though he burned a great deal of his own essence to do it, and a bonfire of darkness bloomed around him.

* * *

Meep wanted to follow the soul steel armoured man through the window, to help her mistress, but her job was different.

She moved unseen along the edge of the buildings, trailing the long, silk cord. Moving fast, flicks of her wrist twining it amongst the legs of the ghosts who were still uncertain after being attacked.

All but invisible she went up the side of a familiar building. Four stories up she found a broken slab of glass the size of a horse. After looping the cord around the slab she gave the glass a kick, feeding essence into her muscles so that for a moment she was stronger than her small size would account for.

The glass went over, pulling the cord with it.

Had the thin rope been only silk it would have frayed and snapped, but there was jade and orichalcium worked into the fibres, and it was stronger than steel. Below it snapped taught, taking the feet out from under the crowd of ghosts, pulling some into the air as they were dragged up by the tightening rope. A few were even dismembered by the slicing action of the strand.

Confusion, panic and pain.

Meep stepped forward, placed a foot on the line, pushed down to test how tight it was pulled. Satisfied she put her other foot on it as well, standing balanced upon the cord. Satisfied with her footing she ran down the sharp incline, towards the confused ghosts below. Not far above their heads she jumped off the line and dropped among them. Her Black Widow Razors had scuttled down onto her wrists and as she fell her hands lashed out, cutting ghosts and setting them aflame.

* * *

Broken glass had been used to tile many of the roofs in the newer built parts of Chiaroscuro. They were slick, and sharp, and difficult cross. Courtesan was hard pressed to move across them, quietly, while maintaining her footing and her speed. It would have been easy, were she able to call upon the full abilities and prowess provided by her dark exaltation.

She did not, however, for she did not know how much protection the collar she wore would provide her if she tapped directly into that dark essence.

It was possible that Ivory had lied to her, or had not been certain, when she had suggested the danger in calling on those powers, but Courtesan did not want to chance it. The peace that had come to her was too valuable to risk.

So she trusted to her own abilities and a body that had been strengthened when she had accepted the corrupted shard of power.

A leap between buildings, feet shifting through a complex dance that took her safely across another roof, and then she was looking down at a deserted street than ran as a border between the lands of the living and one of the small shadowlands that dotted the city.

Standing near an alley mouth below was a great desert cat. It stared up at where Courtesan stood, unmoving for several seconds, then it turned and disappeared down the alley.

A soft sigh slipped between the woman's lips before she took several steps back, and then, with a silent run up, leapt across the street, to the roofs far buildings. Her landing was not as clean, and she had to drop into a roll, turning to keep the bow case from smashing up against the unclad roof. Her skirts were a little tangled when she stopped in a crouch, dust from the rough surface marring the black velvet and silk of her clothing.

The building was empty, and no one had heard her tumble. No one except for Lightning.

From her perch she looked down into a market square, empty but for a few wispy ghosts, and the prowling form of the great cat shape Lightning wore.

Lightning's form flowed and she stood there as a woman.

Courtesan slipped the case from her back, popped the latches and opened it up. She took up the strongbow, put an arrow to the string, and turned, tracking Lightning, ready to provide support.

They had been patrolling the city at night since they had arrived. Learning the lay of the land as well as watching for Faded Maiden or any other agent that the Walker might send. So far they had found no sign of the Abyssal, nor had they found anything of real danger: Some ghosts, a few minor necromancers, nothing else. Avoiding the mortal guards and mercenaries in the living part of the city had been more of an issue.

Lightning wandered the square, looking into doors and windows, ignoring the ghosts as they ignored her.

Then Lightning stopped, standing stock still, looking off to the North. Courtesan looked off that way, thought she saw flicking light, like fire. When Courtesan looked back to the square Lightning has shifted back into her great cat form and was already moving.

Courtesan quickly returned the bow to its case, closed it, and pulled it over her shoulder. She caught sight of Lightning's tail as the Lunar darted down another alley. Courtesan took off at a run, leaping the gap between buildings, following.

* * *

It took Lightning a moment to make sense of what she was seeing.

People, no, ghosts, under attack, disorganized, some on fire.

She just could not see the attacker, but she could scent the living in the air, so there had to be an attacker.

There was a soft series of cracks as a nearby wall collapsed in a cascade of broken glass. From out of the hole came a figure wreathed in black shadow, like flames, a face covered in blood that flowed from a bruised mark on the figure's brow.

For a moment Lightning thought that the Faded Maiden had found them, but almost immediately she realized that was wrong. The figure was a man, and Lightning also recognized him.

Cold Rain.

She shifted forms in a few steps, walking across the square. Where ghosts tried to stop her she cut them down with her moonsilver daiklaive.

Cold Rain stumbled a few steps, turned back to the hole he had come from. Through it strode a woman, a golden caste mark shining on her forehead.

The two traded blows, soul steel scythe against orichalcium serpent staff. Weapons rang off each other and the shadow flames around him grew greater.

Weapon's hilt in both hands Lightning charged forward, swung out, blade hitting as the moonsilver lightning ballistae tattooed on her arms triggered.

There was flash and boom of thunder that shattered some of the glass. Cold Rain was blown across the square, to crash among ghosts and then bounce over a low, ruined wall.

Lightning faced the solar.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded.

"Enemy of an enemy?"

The woman seemed to think about that for a moment. "Good enough for me."

She turned away from Lightning and ran towards where Cold Rain had gone, smashing down any ghost that got in her way.

Lightning supposed they might be able to get along well.

* * *

Courtesan was only a few seconds behind Lightning, but she did not see the strike that engendered the flash of light and the boom of thunder.

Bow case down, opened, bow out, she drew arrow and fired down into the square, her arrow taking down a hungry ghost that had been charging after Lightning.

It was chaotic below, many ghosts, Lightning, a woman, and a figure cloaked in black flame. Another death knight.

As Courtesan took down another of the ghosts she wondered who the death knight served. Here and the South there were a few possibilities, none of which she wished to deal with.

* * *

Lightning flashes and thunder was not what Meep had expected, and for a moment she crouched, stunned, near a wall. Fortunately most of the ghosts seemed equally surprised, and none of them had been close enough to take advantage of her momentary disadvantage. Standing, she dashed across the square, slashing and cutting ghosts as she went, adding to the confusion.

Nearby she saw Mina, followed closely by a tall woman carrying a silver sword.

Another woman sniffing after her mistress!

Really!

An arrow whirred through the air close by, taking a wounded ghost down.

Meep looked up to where the arrow had come from.

Now that seemed interesting.

* * *

The blast of lightning had sent Cold Rain flying with the peal of thunder echoing in his ears. He rolled to his feet, in a crouch, taking note of a myriad of little pains. Nothing too serious, but he was going to have to rethink his plans.

He had suffered from an enormous amount of bad luck, so much so it was as if Fate had bent him over and had its way with him.

Possibly it had.

The Solar had been bad luck, but the Lunar was a disaster. He recognized her, had fought her before, and had heard that she had been among those that had killed the Mask of Winters.

This was not a fight he would win. Not as things currently stood.

Moving hunched over as to be less of a target to his enemies, he ran along the low wall, turning down a short alley, putting more walls between him and the two pursuing him. He spotted Ambrose and moved towards him.

"Tactical retreat," he called as he straightened and began to run.

Ambrose did not ask questions as he followed. They would leave the ghosts behind to cover their retreat.

They were close to another set of ruins, and the cover they might offer, when the arrows fell around them.

One bounced off the armour on his back, another slipped thought the plates over his thigh, piecing flesh, but shallowly so. One of them caught Ambrose, sinking deep into his shoulder, causing the man to stumble.

Cold Rain swore, darted across the road, and put himself between the attack and the terrestrial, supporting the man even as he pushed him faster. He felt another arrow hit close to the one in his thigh. That arrow pierced him as well, but fell from the wound having failed to penetrate deeply.

* * *

Mina crushed a ghost's skull with a section of her staff as beside her the Lunar's daiklaive skewered another. Not far ahead she saw the death knight and another retreating.

"Are you new to the city?" she asked as she caught a ghost up in the coils of her staff, crushed it, and then hurled it away.

"I am," the Lunar answered.

"Then you should be polite and tell me who you are first."

She seemed to think about it for a moment before saying, "I am called Lightning."

An apt name, Mina thought. "And the rooftop sniper?"

"Courtesan."

"Is that her name or her profession?"

"Both and neither."

Mina smiled. "I am Mina, my friend is, wherever she is, is called Meep. I won't say this city is ours, but we do live here and we like it." She knocked a ghost to the ground and stomped on it. They were almost clear of the press of ghosts. Ahead she saw the Death Knight stumble as arrows fell around him and hit him. "What's a Lunar's business here?"

"Courtesan is being hunted. We are leading that hunter away from our home."

"Into this city."

"Yes."

Mina said nothing for a few seconds. "Who is the hunter?"

"A death knight."

"The one ahead of us?"

"No, I have to admit that I am surprised to see him."

"Well, I'll get more of the story later."

The two had cleared the press of ghosts and set off at a sprint after the death knight and the one that that death knight protected.

* * *

Another arrow was released towards the back of the fleeing death knight. She felt her dark essence flare up within her as she allowed the power of the underworld to flow into the shaft. A tiny whisper of the voices hissed in the back of her head, almost unheard.

Courtesan faltered, worried that she had opened her mind to the dead gods of the underworld again.

She caught a flash of movement and spun, moving on instinct.

Too close to fire, she turned the bow, careful with it, the wheel mechanism was not as strong as she wished, and lashed out with the staves.

Her opponent, a woman in a tight, black suit, with short black hair and pale skin, flowed around the attack, kicking Courtesan's feet out from under her and plucking the arrow from her hands.

Courtesan rolled back onto her feet, dark essence called on instinct speeding her movements, giving them impossible grace. An arrow snatched from the case, it was ready to fire as she came up in a crouch.

"Careful with that," the other woman said from off to the side, not where Courtesan had expected. "We seem to be one the same side. It would be a shame if we ended up trying to kill each other when we did not have to. I like your collar."

Courtesan paused, considering the woman's words and the compliment.

"Here, you can have this back," she tossed the arrow she had taken so it landed by Courtesan's feet. "These I am keeping."

It took Courtesan a moment to realize the other woman held her frilled bloomers.

"How…"

"I'm good at that kind of thing."

* * *

In the Underworld of the South The Faded Maiden of the Tomb stopped. Her wandering had felt ceaseless as she had followed shreds of a trail. It had been like grabbing at smoke.

But for a moment it was as if there was a clear light, shining in the darkness. It faded after a moment, but it was a clear direction.

Ax upon her shoulder she set off at a jog, the soul steel of her super heavy plate armour moaning around her.

* * *

A final push put him and Ambrose into a ruin, a heavy wall between them and the archer, though for a few seconds no arrows had fallen around him.

"There is a hole," Ambrose paused, sucking in a pained breath, "in the basement of this place," another pause, "it will take us into some tunnels. To safety."

"Let's hope so." Supporting Ambrose Cold Rain jumped down a ruined set of stairs, into the basement. There was the hole, as described, and beyond that the promised tunnels.

Ambrose directed him to take several turns before asking, "Who was it?"

"A solar and a lunar who I believed is named Lightning."

"You know," he paused, "the lunar?"

"I have met her. We are not friends."

Ambrose laughed, sounding pained, and then said, "I did not think so."

"This complicates things."

"Yes, it…" he coughed, "it does."

* * *

Mina stood looking down the ruined staircase, knelt upon the floor to run her fingers through a spot of blood there. "The tunnels under the city can be a maze," she said to Lightning.

"I could track them, but I would be wary of following Cold Rain."

"You suggested you knew him." Mina looked up at her.

"He is an Abyssal, a death knight, once in service to the Mask of Winters."

"We heard the Mask of Winters was killed." Mina stood.

"He was, he's dead."

"You sound very certain."

Lightning smiled and nodded.

"I'll have to ask about that later. Let's go someplace with a better atmosphere and alcohol and talk this out in detail."

"After you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Woven Threads of New Relationships**

Lightning felt safe enough in Mina's company, did not completely trust her of course, but did not think she was an immediate threat. Mina and Meep had led her and Courtesan to an open air bar atop the truncated roof of a glass tower. It over looked the harbour and provided quite a pretty view.

They sat at a table that enjoyed some privacy from the other guests. Even late it was a busy place, with people drinking various spirits and ales, eating simple, spiced foods.

They had only been seated for a few minutes, long enough to order food and their drinks to be delivered when Mina asked, "Why is a death knight from Thorns here?" She picked up a glass of sake that Meep had poured for her.

Right to the point, Lightning thought. "His master is dead. He is either masterless and wandering or he has a new master who has sent him here. If he is masterless, then he is probably just getting by, passing through, but if he is here on orders, it's not for Chiaroscuro's benefit."

"He's not the one hunting your pet," Mina said and tipped her near empty glass towards Courtesan.

"No, and she is not my pet."

"But she's got such a nice collar." Meep laughed.

"Meep, be nice."

Explaining the complexities of what was between her and Courtesan was not something she wanted to do, nor expound upon what Courtesan truly was. Courtesan herself sat close by, sipping from a glass of pale ale.

"Let's just say that she is under my protection. Courtesan worked for the Walker in Darkness, but left his service. The Walker has sent an assassin after her. A death knight as well."

"So what did she do for the Walker?" Meep asked, leaning forward to stare frankly at Courtesan.

"He liked playing with dolls," Courtesan said softly.

Meep laughed, sounding delighted.

"And you are leading this assassin away from your home," Mina stated.

"Yes. I am not looking to cause any trouble for other chosen. I can be on a ship heading west within the day."

Mina was quiet for a few seconds, likely considering Lightning's offer. "How much do you know about this Cold Rain?"

Meep picked up the sake decanter and refilled Mina's cup.

"I spent time in the Marukan Alliance, keeping a watch on the Mask of Winters and his servants. Cold Rain joined the Mask's service two years ago, he's good at a variety of tasks, the Mask often sent him into lands bordering Thorns to watch his enemies.

"We took him by surprise tonight," Lightning continued, "he's a better fighter than what we saw, and he has a firm grip on strategy, though no master of it. He's dangerous."

"Would it grieve you to see him dead?"

"Not in the slightest."

Mina leaned back in her chair. "Would you help me deal with him then? At least find out what he is up to in the city? If the assassin shows up you can always flee, or I can lend you some assistance in dealing with that killer."

"And what if that assassin and Cold Rain were to meet up? That would give the assassin reason to stay around, and make Cold Rain more a threat."

"It's a big city," Mina said, and drank deep from her sake cup, "they might never cross paths."

"Fate twists where the Exalted walk, we met after all," Lightning warned.

"That may be true, but I will take that chance. And we are better situated to deal with this problem as a group." She smiled over her rim of her cup at Lightning. "And if necessary I can call on one or two other allies.

Lightning thought about the offer of help, decided she was happy enough remaining in the city for the time being, and the Silver Pact would probably be interested in leaning who Cold Rain's new master was. If he had a master. And if he did, what that master planned for the city.

"Very well." She lifted her glass. "To a partnership."

Mina touched her glass to Lightning's. "A partnership."

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

Cold Rain had taken Ambrose to a ruined structure near the edge of the city. The part of the basement they had claimed had once served as a hospital's morgue and was now a small shadowland. The old morgue had been set up as a safe house. There were medical supplies there, amongst other things, as well as some ghosts who served Ambrose.

The Arrows that had struck Cold Rain were nothing of real concern, the wounds had stopped bleeding, and even when he pulled the one arrow out of his leg there was no lasting damage.

Ambrose' shoulder wound was a bit more serious though, and two ghosts serving as medics had carefully removed the arrow that had pierced the necromancer.

"I will be fine in a day or two," he said to Cold Rain as his wound was cleaned.

"That's good, it would be difficult to finish my job if you were killed."

"It would inconvenience me as well."

Cold Rain laughed softly and then stood up and paced the room, walking past tables and wall lockers that had once held corpses. He pulled one of the drawers open, the old rails screeching as he did so. Within the drawer lay the zombie that was always with him. "Hello Mother, it is good to see you rested."

The zombie groaned softly. He smiled, then pushed the drawer closed. "We need to deal with these Exalts," he told Ambrose.

Ambrose lay on one of the examination tables as a ghost sutured the wound in his shoulder. "I am afraid that I cannot offer much. I could bring more ghosts, but they did not fare too well."

"Other Exalts?"

"If I had such support do you think you'd be here?"

"And out patron? Could we expect support from that quarter?"

Ambrose was quiet for a few seconds, and then said, "Perhaps."

"Perhaps? Is there assistance available?" He stressed 'there' slightly.

Ambrose shook his head. "No, nothing we can call on. Forget I said anything."

"Forget?"

"Consider that requesting help so soon after you arrived, such a thing might bring displeasure."

Cold Rain had know the displeasure of a Death Lord before. He did not want to face it again. He was still curious about the possible support, but he would not push it. "There are Dragon Bloods in this city, correct?"

"Yes."

"They might be useful."

"It would be difficult to enlist them into helping you," Ambrose warned.

"Hardly difficult. You can always stir up the religious beliefs of the Terrestrials. Warn them against the danger of the Anathema and they can be made to dance to your tune. The difficulty will be making sure they don't become a threat to us."

"And how would you arrange that?"

"Giving them an obvious target, one that they will proudly admit to vanquishing, keep our own involvement low profile. If they do not have to admit that there are any other threats than they will not. Glory comes with clear successes."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Do you have any information about the Dragon Bloods in this city?"

"I can get you some details on some of them."

"Good. Spend a few days resting up, replenish your forces as best you can. I will work on finding allies of convenience. There are always options for making Terrestrials do what you want."

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

Mina untied the silken straps from around Meep's wrists, gently kissing the shallow impressions left on the skin. Next she unfastened the gag from around her head, taking the ball from her mouth.

Meep's lips formed a moue.

Mina smiled, reaching for a glass of water on the bedside table, handing it to Meep.

Lifting it to her mouth Meep drank deeply. Mina watched her throat work as she swallowed, how the collar she wore shifted with each swallow.

Meep put the empty glass aside. "Thank you Mistress," she said.

"You are most welcome," Mina told her, then wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, taking her to the surface of the bed, pulling Meep up against her on the mussed sheets.

She placed her face against Meep's head, breathing in the scent of the woman's hair.

Meep giggled and shifted herself tighter against Mina.

Mina reached around and gently tweaked one of Meep's nipples, smiled at the soft gasp it elicited, then slid her hand down sweat slick skin to rest on Meep's stomach. "What do you think of them?"

"I like them."

"Do you trust them?"

Meep laughed softly. "Of course not Mistress." She put both her hands over Mina's. "They have secrets."

"We all have secrets."

"They have secrets that might change Creation."

"As do we Meep. If you keep saying the obvious I'll put the gag back on you."

"Yes Mistress."

Mina was not sure but she thought Meep might be smiling.

"They know this enemy Mistress, and they are not a threat to us."

"I tend to agree." Mina closed her eyes. "I'm still not sure of the Lunars. Allies maybe, enemies perhaps."

"Have you met lunars before?" Meep squirmed in her arms and turned to face her.

Mina opened her eyes, Meep's face right in front of her. She shifted her head forward and kissed Meep, then slipped her hand to cup her bottom. "Three, on my way down here."

"What were the like?"

"All different. They follow many paths from what I could tell. Some who want to protect Creation and would have us as allies in that fight. Some who have no use for us, want nothing to do with us. One I met said she would not wear my collar."

"Did you ask her to?"

Mina smiled and kissed Meep again. "I don't ask every pretty woman I meet to wear my collar."

"So she was pretty?"

Mina gently slapped Meep's bottom. "I don't like you being jealous."

"Was she pretty?"

"Yes. But it was nothing like that. She said it before I even had said hello. There is some history behind that."

"Maybe we can ask Lightning?"

"That seems like it could be an uncomfortable conversation."

"Maybe?"

Mina kissed Meep again. "Get some sleep Meep."

"You too Mistress."

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

Courtesan ran her fingers across the smooth metal of her collar.

She remembered Meep saying, 'I like your collar'. Not necklace, or torc, or anything else. She had identified it as a collar.

And Meep had been okay with that idea.

Because Meep was apparently happily collared by someone she loved.

Courtesan put her arms down on the vanity table and placed her chin on them, looking up at the mirror she had been examining herself in.

Of course there is no such thing as love, she thought.

Meep just wanted to be protected, and Mina just wanted to control someone.

Courtesan had served the Walker in Darkness for too long to believe anything else.

As much as she once might have wanted to.

But she had lived and had died for all intents and been reborn and knew more truths that she was comfortable with.

Her thumb slipped along the material of her collar, felt a tingle from the metal as she sought out the tiny slivers of jet.

Still, she wondered what it would be like to smile like Meep.

"I'm going out for a little while," Lightning called from another room.

She did not enter Courtesan's room.

Courtesan lifted her head. "I understand," she said loud enough to be heard.

"Don't leave the house," Lightning warned.

A few seconds later she heard a door open and close, then the sound of locks.

She looked back at herself in the mirror, touched the collar again.

"I wish perhaps I could have lived a life a little more like Meep has lived," she whispered.

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

A few blocks from the docks, in a newer part of the city, the Silver Pact maintained a safe house. It was a two story building, built of wood and stone, with polychromatic kaleidoscope like glass windows. It was squeezed between two larger buildings, easily ignored, overshadowed by its glass tower neighbours.

Lightning walked along the roadway, hat pulled low over her eyes, her entire presence given over to going unnoticed. She kept an eye on the people about her, careful to make sure their were no watchers.

About ten minutes walk from the safe house, near several large, dockside warehouses was the small bakery she had visited earlier. It was crowded with workers.

Lightning pushed through the crowd, slapping away a hand that reached for her purse. She made her way to the counter, put a piece of guild silver in front of the harried looking worker, asked for three loaves of honey and nut bread.

Later, with the bag of bread tucked under her arm, she leaned against some crates, looking out into the harbour.

Lightning noted the woman approaching her, did not look at her as she walked a few steps past her and then took a seat upon a dock pillar. Spreading a piece of canvas across her knees she began to work on some shiny, metal fishing lures.

"Mr. Orvon says he hopes you are pleased with the house," the woman said after a few seconds, not looking up form her work.

Still staring out over the water Lightning replied, "Tell him I thank him for his generosity."

Almost a minute passed before Lightning spoke again. "I met with other Exalted last night, but more importantly, a Death Knight, not the one I expected. Name is Cold Rain, he was a servant of the Tyrant of Thorns."

The woman did not say anything, but Lightning knew she was listening, remembering everything that she was being told.

"I'll put together a briefing on him, leave it at the drop point."

The woman held up a large, treble hook, then took up a small file and worked one of the barbs. "Do you want anything from us?"

"Nothing active, but if you hear anything."

She put the hook and file down, sorted through her tools. Lightning said nothing else, then after a moment walked away, back towards the safe house.


	6. Chapter 6

**Plans Among the Glass**

Late morning, a street lined with stalls, near the centre of the city. Mina walked along the middle of the street, seven section rod hung around her neck like a scarf, the bright blue silk of her cheongsam standing out among the drabber colours around her.

She turned a corner, into a narrow alley, a few shop doors along its length. One of them opened into a small, cluttered room, dominated by a large worktable behind which Del Pret sat.

"Well hello dear," Del Pret said, putting aside a blocky item that looked a little like a clockwork gauntlet.

"You look better today," Mina said, grabbing a wooden chest and dragging it over so she could sit on it.

"Thanks to you. I apologize for leaving, but it seemed you had things under control."

Mina nodded. "For now. So, could you tell me exactly what you were doing and why you ended up with a Death Knight and a small army of ghosts after you?"

Del Pret smiled. "I was under the city when I saw the two of them. There was only two when I engaged them, they picked up the small army of ghosts later."

"I see."

"The necromancer, the one without the scythe…"

"How do you know he is a necromancer?"

"Well, it is something of a guess, I must admit. But he deals with ghosts and the dead, I've seen that before you see."

"Interesting."

"Is it?"

"Meep and I've been seeing a lot of hungry ghosts lately. We have been wondering if someone is making them."

"It is certainly possible."

"Do you know where this necromancer can be found?"

"I am afraid not my dear. To be honest before I hardly paid him any attention. He stayed away from places I considered important, until last night."

"So he was not willing to go anywhere dangerous until he got the backing of the Death Knight."

"I suppose that is a likely scenario. I attacked them and ended up with a more dangerous response than I intended."

"So you led them to us."

"I thought you could help deal with them. And I was reasonably certain I could find you in time." She smiled broadly.

"We're that predictable?"

"I am afraid so."

Mina shook her head. "Give me all the information you have on this necromancer."

"I can have something ready this evening, a little after sunset."

"Meet me at the Fields of Glass then."

"I do appreciate you saving me."

"Good, because I might need your help in dealing with this."

Del Pret pursed her lips for a moment. "Very well. I suppose it is best we address this threat."

"Good." Mina stood. "Tonight then."

"I will see you there."

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

People were weak.

Cold Rain had learned that lesson well.

Seeking out the weakness was one of the many things had had learned from the Mask of Winters and the tutors among the dead.

Flau was one of those people. He had power, and all it engendered in him was fear. That fear made him weak. Vulnerable.

He was a man who had the service of a sworn brotherhood of Dragon Bloods and that made him valuable to Cold Rain.

Over the course of the day he had been learning about the man. About his desires and habits and fears.

His desires were easy.

Flau was a man who considered himself a scholar, a collector of refined tastes.

Ambrose had uncovered treasures among the shadowlands of the city, for even the shallows of Chiaroscuro were places mortals feared. One of these minor treasures was enough to allow Cold Rain a meeting with Flau.

His home was well guarded; a member of the Delzhan, he claimed one of the glass towers and made his home in the top six floors.

Cold Rain was not allowed the courtesy of the elevator for those last six floors. He was made to climb the stairs, passing guarded landings, each a choke point; a kill point. He was watched as he climbed, for any threat he might present.

He found it amusing.

This day he wore no armour, just light trousers of silvery silk, and a white, lace shirt with a short velvet jacket. His cloak was scented by the grave, for it had served as a shroud once. His scythe had been left behind well, and the only weapon he carried was a slim, duelling sword.

The interior of the glass tower was hot, for the essence powered climate control had failed long before.

There was not a hint of sweat upon Cold Rain, though the stairs were steep and long. His attendant, a young woman, was not so lucky, for her thin dress stuck to her in places and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Cold Rain wondered if making people suffer pleased Flau in some way. Perhaps it was just petty sadism?

On the top floor a breeze blew through the halls, and the woman who led Cold Rain lifted her chin, pulled surreptitiously at her dress. She was almost elegant in her actions.

He was brought to a large set of double doors, outside of which stood six guards.

They made Cold Rain give up his sword, which he did without argument. The doors were opened and he was allowed to enter into Flau's chambers.

Wooden fans were worked by young boys, each one turning a crank, causing a strong, cooling breeze to flow through the room, and there were blocks of ice—a luxury—placed near the large chair which Flau occupied.

He was likely a tall man, hard to be certain as he was slumped in his chair, with long red hair and darkly tanned skin. To either side of his chair stood an armed guard, but Cold Rain dismissed them. It was the woman sitting on a nearby couch, clothed in a thin dress, a glass of wine in her hand, that Cold Rain was careful not to look towards. Glances out of the corner of his eyes showed her to have a blue tint to her blonde hair and her otherwise pale skin.

Water Aspect.

One of Flau's Dragon Bloods.

He was of course curious as to why the terrestrials served Flau. He had not yet learned that, but it could wait as it was not important.

Stopping several steps from Flau's chair he lowered his head. "Thank you for seeing me."

"The token you sent ahead intrigued me." He opened his hand, revealing a glass key with jade inlay. "You of course have what goes with it."

Not a question, more a warning.

Cold Rain had to restrain his desire to smile.

He had terrified men like Flau with but a simple smile, and it galled him slightly to allow this puffed up mortal to think he had the power in this room.

"Of course."

He reached under his cloak, moving slowly, noting from the corner of his eyes the woman shift languidly upon the couch. He brought out a bag. Unclipping the strap that had strung it over his shoulder he held it forward.

One of the guards stepped forward to take it, opened the bag to look in before carrying it over to Flau.

Flau reached into the bag and removed a bird made of brightly coloured glass. It was the size of a seagull, but shaped like one of the small desert songbirds. Flau looked at it for several seconds, then found the keyhole. He slipped the key into it and began to twist, winding clever gears within and unknowingly feeding a tiny bit of his own essence into the artifact.

He placed it on the ground in front of his chair. The bird moved, turning its head, hopping back and forth a few times. It was amazing enough, but then it opened its beak and began to sing.

The soft whistling and chimes of its feathers wove together into a song with a hypnotic quality. The fans slowed as the boys operating them turned towards the sound, Flau's guards were focused on the bird, as was Flau. Even the Dragon Blood on the couch was looking towards the sound, though she was not completely captivated, for her gaze shifted towards Cold Rain.

Cold Rain himself feigned captivation, his gazed locked on the bird as if he could not look away.

After perhaps thirty seconds the bird hopped back and forth once more before going silent, having run down.

Flau shook his head, immediately trying to appear as if his attention had not been wholly captured. He looked towards the woman for a moment, perhaps seeking reassurance, then back towards Cold Rain.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am called Rayne."

"Rayne," he said softly. "You have brought me an interesting object."

"Thank you sir."

"Where did you get it?"

A sensible question, and one that Cold Rain had been certain the man would ask. He had been counting on it.

"I am afraid I stole it."

That of course received some attention from everyone in the room, the Terrestrial looked especially interested.

"Ah, not from anyone that might make a claim on it, I took it from my partner's partners."

Flau said nothing for a moment, and then, "I noticed you did not say your partners."

Cold Rain nodded. "They are ruin hunters, from the Scavengers Lands. They came here looking for treasure. My partner and I had found treasure, well at least we had found the location of treasure, but we needed help."

Flau nodded. "Some professional scavengers."

Cold Rain nodded. "My partner supposedly was killed while they were recovering treasures, that's what they told me, I didn't believe them of course."

"Of course."

"But I was not about to try to fight them, so I grabbed the bird when I had a chance, and, well, here we are."

"There is more to your story that you are telling, so, let me have a chair brought and some refreshments and you can tell me all about your late partner and these ruin hunters."

* * *

LINEBREAK

* * *

Low on the horizon, the sunlight was filtered through towers of glass, painting the streets of Chiaroscuro in bright hues. Around the field of glass some merchants were packing up, while others were just opening stalls for the evening. There was a mix of people there, and for a short time those who might otherwise never meet mixed. Some distance away were the tall, glass towers, their top floors jagged, broken glass, as if the wore crowns.

Seated at a food cart Meep and Mina shared a meal and drinks, watching people, making comments, enjoying each others company.

"Hellooo there dears," Del Pret called as she approached.

Meep sighed. "And here comes the cow."

"Be nice Meep," Mina said, and turned towards Del Pret. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, you helped, it is only right I return the favour." She took a seat on the other side of Mina and laid a bundle of papers on the counter.

"What are you having?" the cart's operator asked.

The Alchemical Exalt looked over the grill on which meats were cooking, and the tray of hot water in which various vegetables simmered, her gaze swept the small board on which the menu was written. "The noodles, and some chicken, and the kelp and the radish."

As the man prepared the food Del Pret said to Mina, "I am sure that you will find all of that interesting." She indicated the papers. "And if you need any help, well, feel free to ask."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Meep said from the other side of Mina.

Del Pret smiled widely. "That would be marvellous of course."

Meep made a soft snorting sound and pouted.

Mina reached under the counter and pinched Meep. "Behave," she said softly. "So these new comers," that louder and to Del Pret, "think they will upset the market?"

All vague terms.

"Perhaps. You know how it is when someone new comes along and wants to do things different. You never know what is going to happen."

"So you aren't sure?"

"How could I be? There is a lot I need to learn."

Mina nodded, picked up her glass of sake and took a drink. "I'd like you to meet my new friends."

Meep topped up Mina's glass.

"Really? Do you think it will be valuable?"

"It can't hurt. And they have some useful knowledge. You might know better questions to ask."

"That is true. Do you have a time and a place?"

"Soon. Not sure where. Will you be in your usual place?"

"My usual place has become less welcoming as of late. You know how it is dear. I plan to look around in new places."

"Yes. If I send a message to your shop?"

"I should hear about it, soon enough."

"Then we'll work with that."

Del Pret lifted her glass. "Cheers then."

With a pouting Meep at her side Mina lifted her glass to chime against Del Pret's.


	7. Chapter 7

**Searching In the Darkness**

Lightning had chosen to enter the tunnels beneath the city. She had brought Courtesan with her to scout. Not that she really needed Courtesan to do so. She could take on shapes so small that no one would notice her. However she did not like leaving the Death Knight on her own for too long.

Part of it was a matter that she did not completely trust the Abyssal, and part was that if Courtesan was close Lightning was better able to protect her.

Deep under the city were mysteries, things long forgotten and lost. For the moment Lightning was willing to let those things stay forgotten. Instead she was interested in the layers more travelled, inhabited, well known.

While Exalts might plumb the depths, those who served Exalts were more fragile. And such servants, if they could be found, were a valuable source of information.

Under the glass streets of Chiaroscuro Lunar and Abyssal came out of a narrow, ancient service tunnel into an open area filled with water.

Courtesan walked along the crumbling stone near the edge. "It does not look deep."

Lightning did not answer, instead she took her sheathed daiklaive and used it like a pole to gauge the dark water's depths. The surface was not far under the water, and the stone felt beneath felt firm and clean.

She stepped down into the water. It was cold and she could feel it through her boots. "Go ahead."

Courtesan stepped down into the water, black shoe slipping under the water. She pulled her skirts up and then crossed the room, her passage near silent.

They were without lights, but Lightning's night-vision was sharp and Courtesan did not leave her sight until she was almost completely across the room.

"It's clear," Courtesan called back, voice a soft murmur Lightning would not have heard but for her inhumanly sharp hearing.

Lightning crossed the water, coming up on a short set of stairs, leading up from where the water ended. Courtesan crouched on the top stair, facing away from her.

Quietly Lightning joined her. The corridor was short, opening up into a large space. She could see lights within, movement, heard voices.

"Some kind of underground market," Courtesan said softly. "I've heard them talking prices. I'm not sure what they are selling."

"Slaves," Lightning told her.

"Oh."

"Come along," Lightning said, starting forward.

She heard Courtesan following after her.

There were a set of step steps that led down into the damp chamber. They reached the floor without being seen by anyone, but as they moved into a light a big man, bare chested, heavy iron rod in his hands, saw them.

He approached, swinging the rod into the palm of his free hand. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Potential buyers," Lightning said, producing a handful of silver coins which she held out towards him.

The man looked at the coins in her palm; there was enough light to make the silver shine. He took them. "Don't cause any trouble," he told her.

Lightning turned her hand and dropped the coins into his hand. "Understood."

He nodded, pocketed the coins, and then let his attention direct him elsewhere.

As she and Courtesan walked towards the central mass of people Lightning took her cloak and draped it over the smaller woman, pulling her closer as well.

"What?"

"I've altered my appearance," Lightning told her. "You're too distinctive. We'll keep you under cover."

It was, Lightning thought, such an easy movement to pull Courtesan close, and the Death Knight matched her pace with Lightning's so they moved smoothly. And it was all Lightning could do to not end the life beside her.

So close the sense of wrongness mixed with the scents of soap, talc and funerary spice.

She could hear Courtesan's heart beating, like a scared rabbit.

Ready to die rabbit. The thought almost escaped through her lips.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Closer Lightning could see the slaves, most kept in simple pens, enough distance between each that buyers could move around them.

Lightning moved about the edge of the group, ostensibly examining the slaves, but she was more interested in the buyers.

She had made a half circle of the area, stopping near the underground wharf.

"Over there," Courtesan said softly, "near that pen on the left."

"What am I looking for?" Lightning asked, not looking.

"Average sized man, fair hair, dark cloak, probably purple."

"What about him?"

"He's dead."

Lightning said nothing else, looking about, as if trying to take in everything, until she spotted the man Courtesan had described.

She started walking again, once more looking at the slaves. Her path took her close to the man. There was a scent about him, of preserved flesh covered with lavender toilet water. A superior dead construct, almost indistinguishable from the living. She had seen the like before, several times in Thorns.

She stopped in the middle of the bidders, waited until the auction started.

It was a simple affair.

Most of the slaves offered in lots, each lot a mix of almost all races one could find throughout Creation. Lightning wondered where the Slavers had captured them. Perhaps out on the ocean, victims of pirates. The Lintha perhaps.

She made a few bids, careful not win, careful not to stand out.

When a sorry lot of slaves, many looking like they were only days from death, were put up the superior dead construct bid on them.

Someone else made a half hearted bid, perhaps seeing some value in the cheap lot, but the superior dead construct offered a bit silver more and the second bidder seemed to lose interest.

In the end he got twenty-five people for less silver than Lightning might spend on a night out drinking.

As the auction began to break up Lightning led Courtesan away, purposely going in the opposite direction that the superior dead construct had gone.

She waited for a time, to make sure people had cleared away, then she and Courtesan went after the dead man, fast and stealthy.

As Lightning had supposed the near dead slaves were moving slowly. The construct and the three bully boys he had to handle the slaves were not hard to find.

It took almost two hours for the dead man to get the slaves where he wanted. Two of them died along the way, but he had the bully boys picks up the bodies and carry them.

That made it obvious what he wanted the slaves for.

They would all be dead soon.

They exited the tunnels and went out into one of the ruined areas of the city, Lightning and Courtesan were not far behind. Lightning looked around the empty and broken buildings. The entire place felt deserted.

There was one ruin that looked a little more intact than the others, a large, low building, breaches in the walls patched with wood and broken glass. In a few places she could see cracks through which light was coming.

"Find a place to hide," Lightning told Courtesan, I am going to take look."

Courtesan nodded and moved off into the shadows.

There was a path through the rubble, but Lightning avoided that, shifting form into a dark furred cat, moving near silently across the broken stone and glass. She reached the wall of the building, and after crouching down low she leapt up high onto the wooden slat roof.

Again she shifted her form, away from the large desert cat to the small form of a house cat. Dashing across the roof she reached a set of stairs that led down into the building. No doors or other barriers blocked her descent into the room below.

The superior dead stood at a work table, one of the slaves that had died earlier laid out there. Wearing a thick leather apron and leather gloves, he was cutting the body up.

The bully boys had pushed the slaves into a small holding pen that took up the corner of the room. Not a single one of them seemed to care what was happening, so broken and near dead as they were.

As a cat Lightning leapt unseen down to the floor, ran towards the pen and the bullyboys on padded feet.

Close she shifted again, into the Claw Strider form that was her spirit shape.

The bully boys died fast, the razor claws of the shape she wore opening belly and throat. She spun, tail lashing out to knock a table over, she charged the superior dead.

He had grabbed a large bone slaw, and slashed at her as she closed, but Lightning ducked it, then her head snapped up, heavy jaw crashing into the constructs chest, knocking him down.

Lightning leapt onto him, crushing ribs under her clawed feet. Head snaked down and teeth sunk into the forearm, slicing through dead flesh, down to a bone wound with soul steel.

A snap of her head to the side took the arm off. There was not blood, just the smell of preservatives.

The superior construct did not even cry out in pain.

She heard the sound of a door opening. Head turned to the side, eye fixing on Courtesan who had entered.

Lightning returned to her human form, bent down and grabbed the undead man by the shirt under his apron. She lifted him and slammed him down on the work table, on top of the dead slave's body.

"Who are you working for?" she demanded.

The undead man simply stared up at her, saying nothing.

She looked at his missing arm, could still taste the dead flesh, cloyed blood, and the preservatives. Threats of harm would not move him, and he was most certainly not afraid of death.

With a growl she lifted him and then slammed him back down on the table, more in frustration than any hope for an answer.

"He can't tell you anything."

Lightning looked towards Courtesan. "I know," she snapped angrily, then a little softer, "loyal beyond death."

"No, well, yes, but no, because he does not know anything."

"What?"

Courtesan took a step back, then looked around. "This is nothing. No one important works here. This place is mass producing hungry ghosts, that thing," she looked at the undead man, "is just a worker following limited orders."

It was probably true.

It irked her more than a little that Courtesan told her.

She turned back to the man, encircled his throat with clawed hands.

No fear at all in his dead eyes.

She ripped his throat out, then reached into the wound to grasp the bones of his spine. A squeeze pulverized them, and she then tore the head completely free of the body.

Dropping it to the floor she then lifted a foot and drove her boot heel through the skull.

"Messy," Lightning said. She looked up at Courtesan. "Help me turn this place over. Let's see if there is anything useful here."

In the end there was not too much to find. A small chest full of silver, various receipts for reagents that could be used to animate dead flesh, the reagents themselves, and a slim grimoire with necromantic formulas and spells.

"These people might be selling to others," Lightning said, holding up the receipts.

Courtesan nodded. She was looking through the grimoire.

"Anything interesting?"

She looked up from the book. "It's written in a fine hand…. maybe in blood. It feels," she paused, "powerful."

"Powerful?"

"Whoever wrote it," she closed the book, "I think."

Lightning walked over and took the book from Courtesan. She did not open it. "I'll pass it on."

Courtesan took a step back. She nodded. "What about them?" she looked over at the slaves int he pen.

Lightning had, while not forgotten about them, had not really thought about them. They had not reacted to the killings, had not asked to be set free. Most lay on the floor unmoving.

"Yozi spit," she said softly.

"I could… well, I'd make it painless," Courtesan offered.

Lightning examined the broken people and considered telling Courtesan to do so. After a few seconds she shook her head. "I am going to talk to the bastard running that slave auction. He'll take care of these wrecks for as long as they live."

She tucked the book under her arm. "Stay here and watch, I'll be back soon."

Courtesan nodded.

Lightning set off into the night. The night had not been a complete waste, but little of use had been revealed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Plans Break Like Glass**

Mina received a message in one of her drop boxes. Pajou wanted to see her. She had no idea what the noble sought and was of a mind to blow him off, but he could be annoying if he put his mind to it.

She would not be meeting Lightning again till that evening.

There was time.

She was shown into his office, the rich room, full of his treasures, with the golden prayer scroll set where anyone entering the office could see it.

Mina had given him that scroll, knew exactly what it was, and did not care.

"Please, have a seat," he said a moment before Mina might have sat uninvited.

She did not like Pajou. She knew she could kill him if he chose to force him to invoke his right of duel. He knew it too and it likely grated on him.

"You asked for me," Mina said, "I am here."

"Yes," he replied. "I am glad you have come, for there is something you might help me with."

For a moment Mina thought to tell him he had nothing else she needed and there was no value in aiding him. However she simply nodded.

"I am going to ask you to keep what you learn to yourself."

Mina was non-committal with an answer of, "I understand."

Pajou seemed to give that some thought before asking, "Do know you Flau of the Delzhan?"

She knew Flau, and his Terrestrial bodyguards. She would see all of them dead were she given her choice, but again a simple nod.

Pajou looked uncertain, angry, but if he was he must be keeping those emotions in check, for his voice was even when he spoke. "This city contains treasures and wonders of a forgotten time. You yourself have brought me some of those treasures and I have rewarded you well."

"Eventually," Mina said, with a smile.

Jaw firmed for a moment, as if he were biting down on his teeth. "Yes. The treasures of this city belong to the Delzhan."

Mina did not argue the point.

"You are aware of this. You search for treasures, but you bring them to me, to other nobles of the city."

Mina wondered if he really believed that, for she and Meep had traded the treasures they had found to whoever would give them what they needed, and they had kept many for themselves. "Of course."

"Yet there are others, others who would dare to come to the city and try to claim what is the rightful property of the Delzhan, to take it with them far from our lands."

Mina wondered what had him worked up so much.

"Flau has learned of Scavengers, from the North, who have come to Chiaroscuro to plunder her treasures. This must be stopped."

"And why call me?"

"You are familiar with the ruins, having hunted them yourselves. You are also a competent fighter." Mina wondered if she should take offence. "Flau approached me for assistance in dealing with this. I call you as both an expert and a fighter."

"You need an expert in the ruins?"

He nodded. "I believe so. Flau's informant does not know where these scavengers have gone to or where they will raid next. This informant, a pretty man by Flau's description, pale faced and foreign, believes he can lead them into a trap. Believes with the help of Flau's bodyguards and personal soldiers they can be subdued. Flau says he wants things to be more certain."

Curious Mina asked, "What do you know about these scavengers."

Pajou smiled. "I know more than either Flau or his informant."

"How so?"

"The woman that the informant described was a woman who recently sold me a horse. She had a pretty slave with her." Pajou paused, smiled. "She is overly tall, with dark skin, and a large sword over her back. Attractive enough I suppose. But her collared slave, with her curly blonde hair and fair skin, like some doll, she I will not forget."

Mina was careful to school her features for it sounded as if he was describing Lightning and Courtesan. And if he was then she was certain she knew who Flau's informant was.

She was a Dawn of the Unconquered Sun and she was both warrior and leader. She understood tactics on a level few mastered until they had led men for a handful of decades. Young as she was, Mina knew how to read a battlefield, and she was envisioning one on which she would win on many fronts.

"Tell me more," she said, careful not to smile.

* * *

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* * *

Lightning had heard of Grandma Bright's Plaza, rumours of the place reaching her even in the Scavenger Lands. She wondered, a little, as she entered the Plaza, why Mina had chosen to meet in the plaza.

Beside her Courtesan stopped, looked around.

Lightning looked back at her. "What is it?" Her tone was coloured by impatience.

"I felt as if someone was watching me, but it is gone."

"A goddess claims this Plaza. It is likely she is aware of your presence."

Courtesan wore her clothes of velvet, silk and lace, a plain cloak of black over the outfit. Lightning was dressed in clean travelling clothes. Neither had come armed, beyond a few throwing knives that the Death Knight carried, and Lightning was never truly unarmed for teeth, talons and claws were but a moment away.

"I don't like that," Courtesan said softly.

For a moment Lightning thought to tell Courtesan that it did not matter if she liked it, but instead she told her, "If you're asked to leave the Plaza do so."

Would this goddess simply ask that Courtesan leave the Plaza, or would her demand be more physical, Lightning wondered?

She led Courtesan further into the plaza, following the directions that Mina had sent. They entered one of the glass towers, walked up the stairs to the second floor where the restaurant was.

There was a hostess there, a well dressed woman who looked over Lightning and Courtesan before asking if they wished for a table for two.

Lightning told her they were meeting someone, gave the name that Mina had told her to ask for.

She and Courtesan were led through the main dining room, into a private room at the back.

Mina and Meep awaited them, sitting at the table, drinks in front of them.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the hostess asked.

"An ale," Lightning said.

"White wine," from Courtesan.

Lightning almost snapped at her, almost told her that she could have water and like it. Pointless cruelty. The longer she was civil to the Death Knight the more such cruelty lurked below.

"Another round," Mina said, all smiles.

The hostess left them.

"Can we speak here?" Lightning asked.

"The only person who will hear us is Grandma Bright."

Lightning took a seat. "And we can trust her to keep what we say secret?"

Mina smiled. "As long as we don't threaten her plaza."

Meep waved Courtesan over to sit by her and began asking questions about the Death Knight's clothing. Lightning ignored it and asked Mina, "What have you found out?"

"Do you know a man named Pajou?"

"I do. I sold him a horse."

"He seems upset with you. And you let him see your Courtesan."

"He got a fair deal. He did not like that it was fair for both of us, and so what if he saw Courtesan?"

"You showed him something beautiful he could own. I would never bring Meep anywhere near him."

After a few seconds Lightning told her, "Courtesan can take care of herself."

Mina frowned and Lightning was not certain why.

Before she could pursue the line of thought another person entered the room. A woman, somewhat plump, large breasts, wearing a long, grey dress and a bright red shawl over her shoulders. Lightning could not recall seeing her before, but her scent seemed familiar, though odd.

"This is Del Pret," Mina said. "Dell Pret, Lightning and Courtesan."

"How wonderful to meet you both," the woman said, wide smile, her tone effervescent.

"Yes," Lighting said.

Del Pret fully entered the room, took a seat beside Lightning, almost across from Courtesan. She regarded them both with wide eyes and a friendly smile. "I am always happy to meet new people."

Lightning wondered at Del Pret's presence.

"Del Pret was present the night we met," Mina told Lightning. "She was being chased by your Cold Rain."

"He's not mine, but why was he after you?" Lightning asked the woman.

Del Pret, still smiling, said, "I am afraid that I attacked him first, though I like to think I had good reason."

Lightning looked at the woman, trying to picture her as someone who would attack a Death Knight. "What reason?"

"He was in a place I did not want him to be."

"So you just attacked him?"

"It's a bad habit, I know."

Lightning supposed there was a story there that she wanted to know more about, but before she could ask Mina spoke: "Lightning is a Lunar Exalted, and Courtesan is her companion."

"A Lunar? Oh my. I have wanted to meet one."

Before Lightning could challenge Mina for giving such information away Mina said, "Lightning, Del Pret is an Alchemical Exalt."

"From Autochthon," Meep added in what sounded like a tone meant to be helpful.

She was of course curious as to what an Alchemical Exalt was, for she had never heard the term before, but it was the part about being from Autochthon that seized her interest.

"You're from, you know Autochthon?" Lightning could not keep a certain excitement from her voice. If she could find Autochthon she could perhaps deal with Courtesan quickly, other than trusting in Heron's plan (which had seemed somewhat crazy).

Del Pret seemed a little nervous about being the target of such excitement and shifted back ever so slightly. "Yes." The word came hesitantly from her lips, as if she were afraid to let it out.

Lightning shifted closer. "Can you take us to him?"

Meep, Mina and Courtesan were watching, curiosity, perhaps concern, as Lightning interrogated the woman.

"Oh, no, no, no. There is no way that you, that anyone, can see Autochthon. Not for many, many years."

Lightning saw something in the woman's posture, her eyes, that suggested sorrow, and she moved back, giving her space. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm sorry to say it."

"What is this all about?" Mina asked.

"A," she paused and then said, "friend," which was the easiest way to explain Ivory, "said that Autochthon could help with a problem I need to deal with."

"What problem?" Del Pret asked, back to her self now she was not the one being interrogated.

"It's complicated to…"

The hostess entered at that moment, with their drinks.

Once she had left Lightning decided to redirect the conversation and asked Mina, "What is this meeting about? What does Pajou have to do with it?"

"Pajou was contacted by a Delzahn named Flau, and Flau is being used by Cold Rain."

"Used? How?"

"Flau has a Sworn Brotherhood of Terrestrials," Lightning noted that Mina said 'Terrestrials' as if it left a bad taste in her mouth, "who serve him, or put up with him, I'm not sure. But Cold Rain has convinced Flau that a foreigner from the Scavenger Lands is here to steal all the precious treasures buried under the city."

"So Cold Rain has played upon this Flau's greed?"

"And his stupidity," Mina told her.

"And I am this thieving foreigner from the Scavenger Lands?" Lightning asked.

Mina nodded. "Flau has been convinced to help and provide a great deal of support. I suspect it might be the work of this Cold Rain?" She looked to Lightning.

"He could be charming, and clever. Likely he is playing this Flau for all he can."

"Do you think that included seeking help from other Delzahn nobles? In all honesty that seems careless. It almost guarantees the operation will be leaked."

"Cold Rain was no military genius, but it is not impossible that he wants more bodies."

"Why?"

Lightning noted that Meep and Del Pret were watching her, waiting for the answer. Courtesan was quiet, drinking her wine. "More bodies means more death. Perhaps Cold Rain never considered that any of his enemies would have links into the Delzahn nobility. Perhaps he assumed more discretion."

"Yes," Mina said. "It is possible Pajou was trying to be discreet. However when he heard the description of the foreign thief his interest was captured. It is personal for him and perhaps that makes him careless in sharing information."

"How much do you know of their plans?" Lightning asked her.

Mina smiled. "All of it, or at least all that Pajou knew. The short of it is that Cold Rain, calling himself Rayne, has promised that he can lead the thieves into a trap set up by Flau's Dragon Bloods and other forces."

"How does he plan to lead anyone anywhere? He has no idea where I am right now."

"You should be careful not to underestimate what a Death Knight might learn," Courtesan said, voice soft.

Lightning resisted the urge to tell her to shut up. It was not easy to spew the bitter venom brewing within her. And Lightning was quiet aware that Death Knights had access to rich sources of information, but Cold Rain's master was dead.

"He's planning on digging down into an area not too far from the docks. It's a somewhat dangerous area, usually avoided. I think their might be some low level leakage form an old demanse. Just a guess."

"Oh dear, I'm afraid that I would not want that," Del Pret said. "Excavation is tricky and not for careless hands. Who knows what they might disturb."

"That is likely why he believes that the action will lead us to him," Mina explained.

"Why not just let him dig as he will?"

"We can't do that, it just would not do."

"Del Pret is right, there are areas beneath the city that should be left alone."

"Not that we left them alone," Meep said.

Mina looked over at Meep, narrowing her eyes.

Meep blushed slightly.

"If Del Pret does not want the Death Knight and his necromancer digging holes then I am of a mind to stop them."

"Not to mention I don't want the Terrestrials getting ideas," Del Pret told them.

Lightning looked between the two women, Mina and Del Pret, and then asked Mina, "If Flau and his Dragon Bloods weren't involved, would you care?"

Mina frowned, looked for a moment as if she might say something angry, but paused. She calmly answered, "I'll admit being able to strike against Dragon Bloods is a strong motivator, but I do not want this Death Knight doing as he wants in this city."

Lightning wondered what the Dragon Bloods had done to Mina. She did not press for answers though. It was not as if one had to look too hard to find the Terrestrials abusing the people of Creation.

Mina looked closely at Lightning for a few seconds and then said, "And it is not impossible that the assassin seeking you might be part of this, if they are here. This offers you an opportunity."

"That is true," Lightning said after a few seconds, knowingly taking the bait Mina offered.

"So, will you help?"

"You gave me the short of the plan, now let's hear the long of it."

Mina smiled. "Let's order some more drinks first, and something to eat if you are hungry, then we'll get down to details."

* * *

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* * *

Mina provided the plan's details as Pajou had outlined them. Cold Rain in his guise as Rayne would open a section of ruins up, an archelogical dig that would find treasure, a dig that the thieves from the Scavenger lands would most certainly attack.

"I suppose if I learned he was doing that I would investigate," Lightning said.

"Cold Rain will have a small group of diggers with him, and some guards. The main force will be close by, waiting for the thieves to strike and they then will move in to capture them."

"Capture?" Lightning asked.

"That's what the nobles think the point of this, capture and force them to tell where the treasures are. Cold Rain will probably try to make sure you are killed."

"He won't be watched closely as he works," Del Pret said. "He and his necromancer can work unhindered. I don't like that, no I don't."

"It is how it will have to be," Mina told her. She produced a map of the city and laid it out. "This is the location that Cold Rain has suggested for the dig." She put her finger on a section of ruins in the Northwest part of the city. "Anything we need to be concerned about?"

Del Pret leaned forward. "There is nothing special there, unless they try to go very deep. That area of the city has a lot of essence conduits and collectors that feed power downwards. No no, I don't think we want them to dig down too deep."

"I don't think they'll have an opportunity. I was not sure if I wanted to delay the attack or attack almost immediately. Delay it and Cold Rain's plan would look flawed, so everyone would let their guard down. Attack immediately and they would not be expecting it, less opportunity for me to be recognized."

"You'll be with them?" Lightning asked her.

Mina nodded.

"What if Cold Rain does recognize you?"

"I'll dress differently and I won't carry my serpent sting staff. I'll also be with the hidden force, lost among the people Pajou sends. But if he recognizes me, things will have to happen immediately."

Lightning gave her a doubtful look.

"I can help her disguise herself," Meep said.

"Won't Pajou wonder why you are in disguise? That would be odd, yes it would," Del Pret said.

"Pajou won't be there."

Now both Lightning and Del Pret were looking at her doubtfully. Even the quiet Courtesan seemed to be concerned.

"It will be fine. Trust me."

No one said anything.

Meep gave her an encouraging smile.

"So, we give them time to work unmolested if we can. Del Pret can call the attack when she feels it is time to move; then she and Lightning will attack Cold Rain. If you can kill his necromancer in the opening moves, all the better."

"As soon as we get the message that Cold Rain has encountered trouble we, the forces of Flau and the others, will move forward to engage. That is when Meep and I will engage the Dragon Bloods, we'll separate them out and finish them off."

"You're setting me up to take most of the blame on this," Lightning told her.

Mina nodded after a moment. "Yes."

Lightning was silent for a few seconds then said, "Acceptable."

"Keep in mind that Dragon Bloods are very good at making use of troops, even if in unfavourable conditions."

"Yes," Lightning said, "I am aware."

"I'll be trying to cut the Dragon Bloods off from that support, but if I can't we'll deal with it."

* * *

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* * *

Cold Rain found Ambrose pacing nervously in his workroom.

"What is it?"

"Someone attacked one of my workshops."

"What was being done this workshop?" Cold Rain asked.

"Making of hungry ghosts, it is part of my mistress' plan."

Cold Rain did not bother asking what part they would play. "Do you know who was behind it?"

"Not yet," Ambrose admitted.

"Could they connect that work shop to you or any of your other resources?"

Ambrose appeared to be thinking about it. "No, I don't think so."

"Good enough. I have arranged to deal with the Lunar and the others who set us back. Once they are gone with we can track down this new problem, assuming they are not the same."

"You arranged to deal with things?"

"And to give you the opportunity to conduct one of your surveys."

His eyes widened. "That is good news."

"I'll need some treasure, any minor artifacts of the First or Second age, to scatter around."

Ambrose nodded. "That can be arranged."

"What fighting forces do you have command of?"

"I have built some war machines, and there are the hungry ghosts, and a few Nephwracks answer to me through my mistress."

"Good. That will be very useful."

"May I ask what you are planning?"

Cold Rain looked at the necromancer and smiled. "I plan to kill our enemies and our supposed allies all at the same time. Hundreds dying in short order. That will help you take the measurements you need?"

"Yes, I believe it will. Thank you."

"It is my pleasure," Cold Rain said with a smile.

* * *

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* * *

After they finished the planning it was time to talk. Of things they had seen. Mina had heard news from all over Creation, for Chiaroscuro was a great port, but often that was second, third or even fourth hand. Hearing Lightning talk about the situation to the North, as she had actually seen it, was of great interest.

A few times Mina tried to get something out of Courtesan, but the pretty little woman said little.

"So what has happened to Thorns? Really?" Meep asked as she poured fresh drinks for all at the table.

"Yes indeed, all I've heard or Thorns is rumour after rumour, what has truly happened there?" Del Pret asked.

"Thorns," Lightning paused, "is gone. The city is ruins and the lands around it blasted by Wyld energies."

"You've seen it?" Mina asked.

Lightning nodded. "Soon after it happened."

"We'd heard about the Mask of Winters even down here," Meep said, setting the sake jug down. "How they spoke of him made it sound as if he were a monster no one could harm."

Lightning drank deeply from a cup. Like all of them at the table the alcohol was having little effect on her. "As I understand it he was not defeated easily. At the very least it took the poisoning of a great city with Wyld energies." She seemed distant for a moment. "Who knows what it would take to defeat the others."

Mina looked at the woman, wondering at the serious tone. "And do you think there will be need to defeat the others?"

Lightning put her nearly empty glass gently on the table. "We're Exalted. Among our many responsibilities is defending Creation against monsters. The Dead Lords and those that serve them are certainly monstrous."

"Certainly they are," Del Pret said, watching Lightning with bright eyes.

In anyone else Mina might assume drunkenness, but she doubted the Alchemical got drunk.

Lightning reached for the sake jug and poured herself a fresh cup. "Almost empty," she said as she set the jug down.

"I'll go get us another," Meep said happily as she jumped to her feet. She grabbed Courtesan by the arm. "Come on, stretch your legs."

Courtesan looked surprised by Meep's actions, and Mina thought for a moment Lightning was going to stop Courtesan, but she said nothing as the two women left together.

"What news of the lands South of Chiaroscuro?" Lightning asked.

Mina sat back in her chair as she finished off the sake jug, pouring the rest of it into her glass. "Whispers of war between Gem and Paragon, though I only hear of it through second hand rumours. Were I ambitious and not happy here I might travel down that way to see what sort of fortune I might make."

"Even the Exalted may fall under the command of the Paragon," Lightning told her before taking a drink from her cup.

"Really? I wondered."

Del Pret looked between the two of them. "I've heard Paragon enslaves all the citizens. Is that true?"

Lightning shook her head. "Not as you'd think. He marks them, I've seen it once. An eye upon the palm of their hands. He can command them, even see through their eyes, it's said."

Del Pret's eyes widened. "Fascinating."

"Terrifying I would think, to be responsible for so many people."

Lightning seemed surprised by that.

Mina smiled at her. "The submissive bow to the dominant, but the dominant is responsible for the submissive's happiness and health."

"I don't think the Perfect cares about anyone happiness or health but his own."

"Too many are like that," Mina said. She shook her head. "An-Teng might be another place to go if you are feeling ambitious, if the rumours are true." She took another drink of her sake. "With the Realm's influence weakening the entire region grows unstable. Confusion and chaos, opportunity or doom."

"They often dance together," Lightning agreed.

"Where do you think you will go when it comes time to leave?"

Lightning leaned back in her chair. "I am honestly not certain. Take a ship to An-Teng and disappear into the jungles or take the Caravan route to Gem? Either are viable strategies."

"You could stay here."

Lightning shook her head. "Moving targets attract more attention, and focus that attention where I want it."

Mina nodded. "Yes, I understand."

"So much to learn and so little time," Del Pret said sadly.

"You expect to learn about me?"

"You are the first Lunar I have met."

"That you are aware of."

Del Pret looked thoughtful. "Perhaps."

Then Mina and Courtesan returned, their arms full of small sake jugs and glass bottles.

"We got plenty," Meep said as she plunked her haul down on the table and then reached for the armful Courtesan carried.

"Did you leave any for the other customers?" Mina asked, smiling.

"They aren't my mistress, so who cares," Meep exclaimed gleefully as she transferred Courtesan's armful to the table.

"You'd better hope your mistress does not hear any complaints about you," Mina warned, a playful tone with a subtle warning underneath.

"I'm too pretty for anyone to find fault with," Meep countered as she opened a sake jug and refilled Mina's glass. "And my partner in crime is even prettier." She smiled at Courtesan.

As Mina picked up her full glass to take a drink she noted Lightning and Courtesan both watching Meep. She did not think it was her imagination in that she saw a look of wistfulness in the small, blonde woman's eyes.

She wondered if Lightning saw it.

She wondered if Lightning cared.

* * *

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* * *

It was early in the morning, with plans discussed, and alcohol drank, and surely they had made a dent in the establishment's larder. Exalts can be creatures of their appetites Mina thought, finishing the last of her sake as she pulled Meep close to her.

Lightning stood, steady, as if she had not been drinking all night. "Time to go."

Mina released her hold on Meep, kissed her on the forehead, and stood as well. "I'll pay for this," she said, getting up and following close on Lightning's heels, for all intents and purposes pushing her out of the room ahead of her. "Meep, you and Courtesan take a look about and make sure we are not forgetting anything."

"Yes ma'am," Meep said cheerfully, followed by a, "look under the table Courtesan."

Out of the room the rest of the establishment was empty, but for a far corner table where an old woman sat. Mina nodded politely in her direction.

"As you clumsily made it clear, what do you want to take to me in private about?" Lightning asked.

Mina walked to the bar, where a single, tired looking employee was packing away glasses. She put a small bag of silver on the bar top. The young man bowed and then opened the bag, counting through the coins within.

Lightning and Mina took a few steps away. "I don't like how you treat Courtesan," Mina told her, feeling uncomfortable as she said something she would not have wanted to hear from anyone else.

The Lunar's eyes widened slightly. "How I treat her?"

"Cold. You look at her as if you hate her. She wears your collar."

"She doesn't… It's complicated."

"So you say. But it is not. You collared her. You are responsible for her. Health and happiness."

Lightning stepped closer, into Mina's personal space. "This is not your affair Solar."

Mina did not back down. "I am making it my affair Lunar." Out of the corner of her eye she saw the old woman watching. Grandma Bright was probably not going to take well if two exalted began a fight that would tear the place apart.

"Honoured guest, your change," the man behind the bar said, apparently unaware of the tension between them.

A tension that he broke.

Lightning took a step back. Mina looked towards him and smiled, "Keep it."

"Keep it?" He looked shocked. "But it's…"

"Suitable recompense for how late we made you stay."

Mina and Courtesan and Del Pret came from the back room, chatting among themselves.

"I'll try to explain things to you later," Lightning told Mina, than walked away, passing by Courtesan who fell in behind her.

Mina watched, a dance between a dominant and her sub. But a dominant who did not want a sub? Or one that hated the woman who had bowed her head in submission? Is seemed poisonous. Toxic.

Del Pret waved and headed towards the exit as Meep came close and leaned in against Mina. "Shall we go home mistress?"

"What do you think of Courtesan?"

"She's pretty and sad and has a secret she maybe wants to tell."

"I should take her away from Lightning."

Meep was quiet.

Mina put a hand over Meep's shoulder and led her to the door. "Would that make you jealous?"

"Yes, a little, but that's not why I think you shouldn't do it."

Mina thought about it and when they exited the building out into the cool night of a desert city she asked, "Why?"

"Because somehow, beyond the broken edges, I think they fit together."

Mina suddenly swept Meep into her arms and Meep made a sound very much like her name. "I am lucky to have you."

"We're lucky to have each other," Meep said and she put her head against Mina's shoulder.

"With the Sun's blessing," Mina told her.

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Lightning walked the dark, nearly empty streets of Chiaroscuro. She was aware of Courtesan a few steps behind her, following in silence. Mina was right of course. She hated Courtesan. The darkness within the small woman that she could feel and knew was wrong.

But when she finally cleansed her of that darkness, as Ivory seemed certain she could arrange, what then?

She thought about Redigost and Sparrow.

A hatred that had nothing to do with darkness.

That was a hatred based on injustices and injuries done lifetimes ago.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

Courtesan took a single step before stopping as well, her gaze meeting Lightning's.

She could see the prey fear in Courtesan, the knowledge that she was looking at something that might kill her at any moment.

It was on her lips to tell the Death Knight that as long as she wore that collar she had nothing to fear.

But the hatred killed those words on her tongue.

She looked away and started walking again.

She had taken several steps before she heard Courtesan follow after her.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Trap within the Trap**

The broken ruins were in sight of the docks, but the twisted forms of fallen towers were a visual barrier, hiding what happened within. Broken glass and rumours of strange creatures kept most of the curious away. The truth of the rumours killed the curious who were not careful enough.

Paju had almost refused to go along with the plan, but Cold Rain had promised him treasures, both within hidden vaults and those stolen by the thieves from the Scavenger lands.

Greed was easy to work with.

He had, beforehand, moved through the area, killing off several of the Wyld creatures that lived within the tainted lands. Enough that when the workers arrived they were not immediately killed. He had also planted the treasures needed to convince Paju of the value and benefit of going along with the plan.

He could not be sure that the Solar and others would move immediately.

Ambrose was waiting when Cold Rain led the workers and a few guards into an open area, almost clear of the rubble that clogged the rest of the space.

"Clear the debris, pile it up over there," Cold Rain told the workers.

One of the guards looked at Ambrose. "Whose he?"

"He's an alchemist, providing us with a modicum of protection. We'd be wise to not disturb him."

The guard spat on the ground, but did not say anything.

The necromancer did not respond, instead remaining outside of the group of workers. Cold Rain knew Ambrose had earlier been surveying the area, as well as setting up some of his constructs. Now that Cold Rain had spoken for him Ambrose began to wander about, taking notes and measurements. It was an esoteric enough activity that no one questioned his actions.

As the workers cleared the old wreckage and dug deeper Ambrose would wander by, adding to his notes.

They had only been there a few hours when one of the workers called excitedly. "I found something! I found something."

One of the guards immediately ran to the where the man was working, looking at what had been found.

Cold Rain knew the guards were not really there for the workers' protection, instead to make sure any treasure found would not be taken by a greedy labourer.

He also knew what they had found. A large urn of silver and jade that would, with some essence, turn water into wine. A wonder in this age of sorrows, but in the age it had come from almost a toy. He wondered if anyone would ever discover its use, or if it would be put in someone's collection of such items, on display but unknown.

It was late in the day when Paju came, escorted by several well armed guards and flanked by two large men in jade armour. Red and White, Fire and Earth. The fire aspect was armed with a large jade reaper daiklaive that had flickering edge as if it were on fire. The earth aspect was equipped with a huge testubo.

Paju looked at the treasures uncovered the so far, the urn, a small glowing ball and a dirty brass lamp held closed with chains of golden orichalcium.

"Most wondrous," Flau said, kneeling to look at what Cold Rain thought of as cheap baubles. He raised his gaze to look up at Cold Rain. "Your information is quite valuable."

"I would not have been able to successfully search this place but for your aid," Cold Rain lied smoothly.

Looking pleased Flau stood. "Pack up these things. Send more guards and workers. Keep searching."

Cold Rain nodded.

"And you think the thief will appear?" Flau asked softly.

"I am certain of it," Cold Rain told him. "I hope we will be able to capture the hunters and make them show us where they have hidden the other treasures."

Flau nodded. "I will make sure there are enough guards and soldiers to ensure the scavenger thieves do not get away."

"Thank you," Cold Rain said, thinking of all the dead that would soon fill this place.

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The city's towers were starting to cast long shadows as the sun settled lower in the western sky. The dig site where Cold Rain was operating was still mostly well lit, the area sparkling brightly in the late day sunlight and light reflecting off the taller glass buildings to the East.

The bright light presented something of a challenge to Meep and Courtesan as the two moved among the high points of the broken glass. A challenge they were both up to.

Meep was wearing the black body suit, an almost living web of black goo that spread over her body. Courtesan was in mostly blacks and greys, the long cloak helping to hide the flash of white petticoats.

Meep climbed a tall slab of glass, taking a path that let her remain in cover almost the entire climb.

Near the top was a small ledge, the ruin of an ancient room's floor. From it she had an excellent view of the area below her, all the people moving about, the dig site and beyond.

Soft sound of Courtesan stepping on the glass. Meep wondered if she had chosen to make that noise, to announce herself.

"A good position for you?" she asked, voice soft.

Courtesan nodded. "Site lines are a little complicated, but I will make do. That bird is in the air again. A ration."

"Watching?"

Courtesan nodded.

"If it's in the air when this all starts, put an arrow in it. "I might just."

Meep returned her gaze to the area below before saying, "Do you wish to leave Lightning?" "What?" Meep asked. She sounded surprised.

"Are you happy with her?"

Courtesan did not reply and after almost a minute Meep suspected she would not. Then she said, "It's difficult to explain. She doesn't," a momentary pause, "hurt me. She's not cruel, not really."

Meep suspected she was overstepping bounds, and knew she would not want people questioning her about Mina, but still she asked, "Is she kind?"

After a moment Courtesan said, "Isn't not being cruel being kind?"

"Not necessarily. Indifference is not kindness."

Courtesan nodded, gaze locked on the activity below. "I don't mind the indifference."

Meep wondered if that were true, but supposed she had indulged her curiosity enough for the moment. And she had used it to find out about what was between Courtesan and Lightning.

There were other things she probably should have asked.

"Will you remain here?"

"Yes," Courtesan said as she took the bow case from her back. "When it is dark and if anything starts I can move to that lower ledge there." She pointed to a floor almost thirty feet below them. "Cleaner sight lines and more room to move."

"I'll make my way over the ridge of glass above us, so I'll be ready to drop down close to where Mina will enter from."

"I understand."

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The room was canted at a steep angle, and the back wall was shattered glass. However, the rest of the structure was intact and had given them cover from the sun and kept them out of sight of the workers.

Lightning had seen the ration take to the air several times during the day and was certain that Cold Rain was using the bird to scout out the area. "He's ready," she said softly.

"I'm afraid I can't let this continue much longer. They are digging faster than I could credit and are getting close to areas I do not want them near," Del Pret said.

Lightning looked at the Alchemical Exalt. They had been held up in the room for most of the day; watching, waiting.

"Why so protective?" Lightning asked her. "People have been poking about this city for centuries."

"My dear, until recently Chiaroscuro's secrets protected themselves. These Death Knights go where they should not. They also know enough to be dangerous. And now that I am here I don't want things being disturbed until I have been able to properly survey them. It is a little bit selfish."

"A little bit," Lightning agreed.

"There is so much to learn beneath this city."

Lightning looked out the window, could no longer see the ration flying above. "You should meet Ivory."

"Who is Ivory?" Del Pret moved up closer.

"Twilight Exalted."

"Surely I would enjoy meeting a Twilight, it would be quiet educational I am sure."

Lightning smiled as she looked over the window ledge, down into the work site. "As long as you work well with children."

"Children?"

"Ivory is a child."

"Child Exalts? Such things happen?"

"Occasionally, so I've heard. Only met one."

"Interesting."

"Looks like they are setting up lights down there. Going to work through the night."

Del Pret had moved up close to Lightning, was looking down on the work site.

Lightning thought she heard a sound, like gears and clockworks, smelt something metallic in the air.

"They are where they have no business being."

Lightning looked up at the sunlight glittering off the high, broken glass. "Wait till tomorrow."

"No, I'm afraid I cannot."

"Then now, so we at least open this battle under the light of the sun."

"Very well."

Lightning had not really understood what Del Pret was. She watched as the woman changed. Not a transformation such as a Lunar might go through, but a transformation nonetheless.

Her skin lost its healthy colour, becoming grey in tone: not of decaying skin, but of something manufactured. The rounded plumpness in her limbs and torso resolved itself to strange assemblies of magical material, somehow grafted to the grey flesh.

Still human shaped, but not human.

The Alchemical looked at her, smiled, showing perfectly shaped teeth of metal. "I'll go first. Pull the attention of the Death Knight and the guards." She produced a strange weapon of clockworks and razor teeth. As Lightning watched those teeth began to spin around the weapon's perimeter.

"Expect support from Courtesan."

Del Pret nodded. "Time to discover if the Dawns deserve their reputation dear." With that she leapt from the window, hurling her weapons as she went.

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Cold Rain assumed that when he and Ambrose had been attacked it had been because they were entering places where the attacker did not want them to be. With that assumption in mind he had worked with Ambrose to create a digging schedule that would increase the likelihood of an attack after the sun had set.

Darkness benefited the forces of the dead.

Of course he could not assume that the enemy would wait and he had made sure that both he and Ambrose stayed under cover and out of possible sight lines as much as possible.

A scream told him that the enemy had started their attack, a little sooner than planned, but still as expected.

He spotted the strange rotary-saw like weapon as it cut a guard before looping back towards where its owner likely was.

Perhaps it was better this way.

There would be more living bodies crammed into the site when he launched his counter attack.

Ducking low he took off at a run towards where he had hidden his weapons and armour.

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Mina sat in the warehouse, in the cool shadow, drinking and dicing with the mercenaries. The personal guards of the nobles had separated themselves from the mercenaries, making a pretence of discipline. Flau's Dragon Bloods stood separate from all, as if the only people good enough for their company were each other.

When she looked at them Mina had to damp down her anger, her hatred.

She wished that Meep were with her.

Meep could calm that anger.

And for that reason she was glad that Meep was not with her.

She was going to need that anger before the night was over, she was certain of it.

Someone came running into the warehouse, tripping and falling. She stumbled to her feet, looked around, eyes wide, panting. "We're being attacked!"

While they might have been lounging around the mercenaries were ready as fast as the guards, but none were as fast at the Terrestrials. They were already out of the warehouse, exiting through the door the messenger had entered by.

Larger doors in the warehouse were pushed opened to allow the rest to exit en masse. Mina held herself back as she pulled the thick cloth away from the hilt of her grand daiklaive. She had left her serpent sting rod behind, worried that Cold Rain might recognize it. Not that it had mattered. He had never looked in on the troops.

She carried the weapon the construct spider had given her, the huge sword of orichalcium and moonsilver.

People on the docks stared at the group as they rushed up towards the ruins, along an overgrown path marked with warning signs.

Mina pulled the hood of her cloak low, feet sure and steady on the broken rubble of the path. She began to sprint, outpacing the others there. Ahead she could see the Dragon Bloods disappearing through the short passage that would take them into the dig sight.

The killing field.

She looked out to the West, at the sun low on the horizon, making the ocean blaze orange. "Watch me Unconquered Sun. Though it will be dark watch me remind those who have foolishly forgotten of your power of what your champions stand for. Watch me."

She dove into the passage, the cloth wrapping of her sword shredding as she cut through glass, collapsing the passage behind her.

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Tunn was a young man, hired to shift glass and rubble for the nobles.

Decent work.

Paid well.

He had been happy about it until he had seen a guard stumble and fall, blood splashing from his arm.

Tunn himself had almost been hit by something that whirred and clicked. It had fractured a chunk of glass close to his head. He had been cut by the spray of broken shards, stinging cuts across his face.

Now he and several other workers huddled under the cover of a huge slab of glass, once the wall of a building.

The men around him were panicking, Tunn was panicking.

They were going to die.

"Hey stupid, over here."

Turn turned towards the voice.

A woman, dressed all in form fitting black, crouched near by.

"Who…"

"Do you want to die?"

"What…"

"Focus. Do you want to die?"

The panicked sound of the others had faded, they were looking towards the woman.

"No," Tunn said.

"Then get up and get over here."

She seemed small, but there was command in her voice and Tunn found himself crawling to where she knelt.

He could hear the others behind him, following.

When he got close he saw she was supporting one of the guards, wounded, bleeding from a jagged cut in his arm.

"Take him, go through that hole," she pointed to a shadowy patch in the far corner, where a piece of broken wall met the ground at a sharp angle. "Follow it. You'll get out near the docks. Get out here and don't look back."

Tunn nodded. He and another of the workers grabbed up the guard and then made their way into the low crawlway.

Tunn moved as fast as he could and he did not look back.

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Something was wrong.

Cold Rain had taken the time to put on his armour, to gather his weapons.

He had come from the place where his gear had been hidden, ready for a fight.

Ready to kill.

It was however too quiet.

No sound of battle.

He peered over the rubble, saw the Dragon Bloods move into the centre of the ruins, looking about.

There should be fighting. There should be death.

Things were obviously not going to plan.

Before he could put it all together something came down on him. It rolled over him so fast and hard he hardly had time defend himself, and he felt something cut into his side. Not a fatal wound, but he had not expected to take any wounds.

Darting away from the attack he swept his moaning scythe around him in a precise pattern; he heard the sound of steel ring on steel as he blocked several attacks.

Leaping back he landed balanced upon the knife edge of broken glass.

Advancing on him was a familiar woman, body covered in silver tattoos and a daiklaive of moonsilver in her hands.

Cold Rain cursed.

He had not expected to face her one on one.

He spared a moment of thought for Baron, and then all his attention was focused on the Lunar who sought to end him.

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The clash of arms captured the attention of the Terrestrials, and they looked over to where a man armed with black metal fought a woman armed with silver.

Mina came up behind them, picked her first target, the largest of them, the man in the super heavy plate of white jade, carrying a huge, white jade tetsubo.

She drove her blade of gold and silver into his back, trying to pierce him straight through, but the armour and flesh of the earth aspect were durable and her blade did not pierce as deep as she hoped.

Still, he cried out in pain and fell to one knee.

Dragging the blade free she swung it around to catch the reaper daiklaive of the fire aspect as he struck impossibly fast. Fire danced on the edge of the curved sword, Mina felt the heat of it.

She turned her large blade, used superior reach and weight to drive the slimmer blade aside, then turned and kicked the fire aspect hard in the side. It made him stumble back a few steps, left a shallow dent in his armour.

None of the other Terrestrials reacted to her initial attack as fast as the fire aspect had, they were still processing what had happened.

On Mina's head her caste mark glittered, the golden circle with rays radiating from it.

She moved among them, a golden blur, her sword trailing small sparks of essence as it struck all about her.

Tall, handsome, with red hair like flame, the fire aspect's sword was a moment too slow and Mina's blade carved a deep cut across his chest, breaching the armour near the top of the slash, bathing the sword tip in blood.

Hulking, with a heavy brow, and a cruel mouth, the earth aspect spun about, as if he were a dancer only a fraction of his weight. Mina ducked low to avoid the deadly swing of the testubo, sword held out parallel to the ground. As she straightened the blade came around, cutting upwards, splitting skin and scoring bone from the man's lower jaw to temple.

Blonde hair tinted blue, pale skin, beautiful, the water aspect moved rive rapids swift, punching out with fists that sparkled with essence. Mina raised her hilt, knocked the first of the punches aside with the cross-guard, she dropped the pommel hard against the second. There was a crack of bone breaking.

Old, long white hair flowing in a breeze centred on him, a scent of ozone around him, the air aspect spread his hands and from them came a spray of razor winged, obsidian butterflies rimed in frost. Mina's sword moved about her, as if possessed of a will of its own, shattering every butterfly that might harm her, and then she drove her blade straight through the old man.

"Anathema," a pretty woman with roses in her green hair said a moment before Mina's blade, just pulled from the chest of the old man, shattered her jaw, nearly taking it off in a spray of blood and teeth.

The dawn stood untouched among a circle of Terrestrials, all of them wounded, one near death. She glowed with the golden light of the sun, seeming brighter as dusk closed about them.

"Today you learn to respect your betters," Mina told them, and the silver of her great sword seemed to melt, dripping off the golden blade, falling to the ground as trembling globules. "Today you all die."

The silver had all fallen from the sword, leaving behind only the deadly essence of a lighter and faster golden grand daiklaive. It was as if the silver had fallen away to reveal the soul of the sword.

"We outnumber you," the earth aspect said, seemingly unaffected by the wound in his back and the cut to side of his head.

The silver globules pulsed and resolved into the shape of foxes of moonsilver. The small beasts bared teeth razor sharp and bristled fur like needles.

Like a wave they leapt upon the earth aspect.

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The scythe caught her, the blade opening up a deep cut on her upper arm. For a moment a cold greater than the winds blowing off the northern glaciers pierced her arm, and she had to bite off a cry of pain. Worse than the wound or the pain, she could feel some of her life force drawn out to flow into her opponent.

Lightning beat off the next scythe strike and ducked in, taking one hand from the hilt of her weapon to claw across Cold Rain's side with fingernails turned to claws.

The two sprung apart, standing on fractured glass, looking at each other in the fading light of the day.

"Who told you of my plans," Cold Rain asked her as he took a step to his right.

Lightning smiled. "Do you fear traitors?"

"The dead are very rarely inconstant. I fear the stupidity of the living more."

Lightning did not answer as she shifted to the side, looking for a better opening.

She wanted to finish Cold Rain quickly. Mina's plan was built around them ending everything as soon as possible.

Around her she heard the sound of breaking glass as strange, armoured figures pushed themselves up from under the wreckage.

Their scent was like that of the ruins, for their armour was made of the same glass, and their interior was bone and dead, dried flesh.

No wonder she had not scented them earlier.

They were all about her and Lightning realized that Cold Rain had led her there, between attacking and falling back.

Apparently he feared the stupidity of the living enough to plan for it.

"I am impressed," she said.

"I think you die this night Lunar. Long overdue."

An arrow pierced Cold Rain's upper left shoulder. Three more cut into the ghosts around them, causing one to fall.

Lightning charged forward into the confusion.

Cold Rain yanked the arrow from his back and brought his scythe around.

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A small shadowland, surrounded by walls of broken glass, almost cut off from the city.

Baron spiralled down out of the darkening sky to land within. He cawed angrily at the occupants.

The ghosts moved quickly, loading up a siege engine with bundles of bones and leather like dried flesh.

One of the ghosts looked at a map and made small adjustments to the engine. He stepped back and called for the others to fire. Within the engine working dead muscles tensed to spin gears of steel and bone. With a screech the device launched its load into the air.

Already the engine was being reset for its next launch.

Baron watched for a moment and then took once more to the air.

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Mina kept both the fire and earth aspect occupied, the moonsilver foxes acting on her unspoken commands, harrying the two as she moved among them. The earth aspect had taken a number of hits, and while slowing slightly, was far from down. The fire aspect had suffered numerous small cuts from her sword, but she had not yet gotten a telling blow on him.

The water, holding a broken wrist, had joined with the seriously injured wood in an attempt to save the air. Mina thought it was a lost cause for she had most certainly pierced his heart, but the earth and fire were keeping her away from him so that she could not make sure the job was finished.

It was only a matter of time, however.

A moment later she was reminded that she should not take these enemies lightly. The two men moved suddenly, with unspoken precision that spoke to years of working together.

The earth aspect cut his swing short and sharp, smashing the tetsubo down at his feet. The resulting spray of glass forced Mina to take several steps back, which the fire aspect must have been waiting for he came up fast, slipping by her guard, fiery blade putting a shallow cut across her ribs.

The moonsilver foxes were quick to attack, keeping both of the exalts from taking advantage of the situation.

Focused as she was on keeping things under control she almost missed the water aspect coming up behind her. A third part of the attack? Just taking advantage of the situation?

Trusting the moonsilver foxes to buy her time she planned her spin, waited until the woman had committed herself, then Mina shifted, turning while leaving her feet in place. Like a spring she wound herself up, then released the energy in a side kick that caught the woman hard in the abdomen.

She folded around Mina's slippered foot, the breath expelled from her lungs with a powerful force. Mina was ready finish her off, but the fire, fast as his aspect, came at her, ignoring the tearing teeth of the foxes, to draw Mina away from his helpless companion.

In anyone else Mina would have respected that loyalty. Not for a Dragon Blood. For them she would make that act pay.

Her sword cut a smooth arc, faster than the man could have expected. Trailing gold motes the strike was perfect, slashing him across the face, opening up skin on cheek and forehead, ruining his right eye.

He cried out in pain, stumbling back.

"Noda!" the wood aspect cried, though it sounded almost like Noba, through broken jaw and broken teeth. Some distance away she was kneeling over the old air aspect, hands over his wounds as the roses in her hair blossomed.

"I'm fine!" Noda snarled as he tried to kick a fox out of the way.

"You're soon to be dead," Mina told him. "I'll…"

She cut off her words, ducking to the side as something came hurling out of the sky, crashing to the ground among the broken glass. She heard several more thumps around her as similar objects landed.

For a moment she thought it a trick of the Terrestrials, but they seemed just as surprised as she.

The one that landed near trembled, and then unfolded with a sound like bone breaking.

Spider like, a skull upon eight bones legs tipped in iron spikes, the jaws set with iron razor teeth, the construction unfolded to its full size. The one closest leapt for Mina. She shattered it with a swing of her blade. She could see other others, skittering around, making for her and the dragon bloods.

It seemed that any living thing was a valid target.

At least she was at no more disadvantage than her enemies.

She heard the sound of more of the things hitting the ground.

It might be a significant disadvantage.

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Del Pret searched for her target. Everyone was intent on killing someone. She was no different. She wanted to kill the necromancer. Having decided he was the brains behind the operation she had concluded that killing him would slow down the work of the dead, for a short time at least.

During the dig she had spotted him a few times, examining what the workers had uncovered. Using that collected data she had predicted the most likely places to find him.

She avoided some sort of lumbering dead creature, slipped under a long slab of glass and came out near one of the places she had predicted the necromancer might be.

Something that looked like a skeleton wrapped in leather nearly bashed her head in. Lifting one of her clockwork chakram up she caught the heavy mace, knocked it aside, then struck with the second, sawed teeth almost severing its arm.

It howled at her, belching out clouds of darkness that surrounded her, blinding her. Within her eyes small gears clicked over, changing the nature of her sight, while a tiny chip of adamantine shot through with star steel predicted the creature's next move.

Del Pret stood and swung her arm and the chakram in an arc, felt it connect with the falling mace, felt her second chakram contact something, cut through it. She heard the thing howl again.

Taking two steps back she released her chakram at the same time. She heard them whirr away, having not hit anything, heard the sound of a footfall, heard the sound of her weapons ricocheting off glass and come flying back.

The sound of two, solid impacts told her that the weapons had made contact with her opponent, and in the darkness she felt something fall at her feet as she caught her returning chakram.

Del Pret strode confidently forward, out of the unnatural darkness, into the regular darkness of night. Then something stabbed her.

She found herself facing the necromancer, the hilt of a short daiklaive in his hand, the tip of that weapon in her gut.

"Oh dear," Del Pret said.

Del Pret had been created as a creature of clay and crystal, and except with the Integrated Artifact Transmorgrifier she would never pass for human.

It was quite possible that the necromancer's strike would have been fatal to a human, piercing various important organs full of blood.

And it did damage Del Pret.

Just not very much.

A flick of her hand, a careless looking gesture, with the gyroscopic chakram clenched in her fingers, took his hand off at his wrist.

He shouted in pain, perhaps surprise, stumbled back, good hand covering stump of his arm.

Del Pret reached down, grasped the sword stuck in her, pulled it out. Jade, short daikliakve. For a few seconds she examined the weapon, noting the soul steel that was worked into the forging. Then she tossed it to the ground and turned back to the necromancer.

He had moved perhaps ten feet away from her, and was making a gesture with his truncated arm, his blood falling on the ground.

There was an ivory glow around where his blood had fallen and a moment later the ground was pierced wth knives of shattered bone and ribbons to flesh. Around him the bones and flesh rose up into a whirlwind, obscuring him from her sight.

She threw both chakram into the whirlwind, saw them flash among the blood and flesh, and then return to her hands, having failed to find the target.

"Very well then," Del Pret said as she charged forward, into the whirlwind.

As soon as she entered she felt several bone shards spear into her, felt strips of flesh wrapping around her, heavy ropes that impeded her.

She saw the necromancer within the whirlwind, and attacked him even as more shards of bones were piercing her. She cut him, but none of the strikes were telling, and he moved away from her, taking the whirlwind with him. If she followed after she would need to brave the damage of the bone winds once more.

Del Pret considered the option for a moment, at the same time reaching up and pulling a knife of bone from the side of her head. "Bother," she said.

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Cold Rain felt better as the sun finally set, for darkness gave the dead an advantage.

Close by he heard the echoing boom of thunder.

Darkness was far from a guarantee of success though.

He looked across the space that was supposed to have become a place of death. A battlefield confused by a hundred or more mortals. He had envisioned the enemy exalts, upon realization of what was intended, to be significantly hampered in trying to protect those mortals.

It had been a good plan.

Bright light that had to be a Solar's anima effect cast deeper shadows in the darkness, and Cold Rain sought out those places of shadow.

He did not wish to combat the Solar and the Lunar at the same time.

Not quite admitting it to himself, he was moving towards a bolt hole.

Apparently he was not he only one who was seeing the operation as being a failure. The whirlwind he saw was a necromantic spell he recognized, which meant Ambrose was fleeing.

The strange woman who had attacked he and Ambrose before was down there, braving the deadly winds of the spell to attack. How was that woman, if woman she was, still alive? He had seen that spell leave strong warriors dead after only one glancing pass through the winds. Even an Exalt should be wary about challenging that spell.

He ran forward, lifting his scythe up high.

He had harmed her before.

Sent her running off.

He would hurt her again, but this time she would not escape.

It was a good plan, until an arrow took him in the shoulder. He stumbled, making far more noise than he should.

The woman turned, eyes shining red locking onto him. The chakram came at him like angry hornets as she moved away. As if he did not have an arrow in his shoulder Cold Rain parried both weapons with smooth strikes of his scythe, and then he charged forward, both seeking out the woman and wanting to be a more difficult target for the archer.

The woman had a good lead on him, was moving up the side of a broken building.

"Damn her," Cold Rain said, looking at the exposed face of the building. "To Malfeas with it!"

He leapt forward, climbing after her as arrows began to strike around him, one taking him in the opposite shoulder.

With a scream Cold Rain turned his gaze towards the origin of the attack, then leapt from the side of the building.

Blood flowed down his face from his caste mark. From the wounds he had taken more blood sprayed into the air, a fine mist of darkness forming around him. It gathered about his shoulders and took the form of a vast pair of wings.

Powering into the air upon the wings of darkness he flew towards the archer who had been plaguing him.

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Courtesan had done her best to support Lightning and the others, drawing on the essence of the Underworld in a limited manner, her vision keen and piercing all cover, her arrows precise, taking down the weaker enemy and harrying the stronger.

She had not expected to be engaged directly.

However that was exactly what had happened.

The enemy Death Knight raising up on wings of blood and coming right at her.

She had attempted to shoot him down, drawing back her wheel bow and firing rapidly. A few arrows had struck, but they were either glancing blows or stopped by armour or scythe.

He landed hard on the glass, cracking it under his feet, only a few steps away from her.

"Enough," he said, charging her.

Courtesan stepped back, footsteps light as she dodged the strikes, weaving and ducking among them, drawing back the bow whenever the opportunity presented itself to send another arrow at him.

For perhaps twenty seconds they engaged in a complex dance up on the broken glass roofline of ancient ruins. It was all slices of seconds and inches, each barely avoiding the others' attacks. There was no room for error.

The scythe blade finally caught Courtesan, opening up a deep gash across her left shoulder. She stumbled, lost her balance for a moment and he was on her, scythe coming around in a deadly arc that would cut her in half,

She swung the wheel bow around to intercept the scythe strike.

Her artifact bow might have stopped such a blow, but the mortal weapon shattered when the scythe cut through it. She managed to turn the blow even as the weapon shattered, taking a stinging cut across her ribs for the sacrifice. She was lifted from her feet and flung to the side, bouncing across the hard glass, coming to a stop just short of the drop off. She pushed herself to her knees, tossed the remains of the broken bow aside.

"That was a gift," she said softly.

He must have heard her for he said, "Your severed head will be a gift." Scythe spinning about him in complex and impossible patterns he approached her.

Courtesan reached into herself, into the dark, necrotic essence that filled her. Her mind touched those of the Neverborn as the caste mark on her forehead bled. They were aware of her, and they screamed at her, but even as they tried to reach her something cut them off, their voices nothing but a background murmur. However in that moment of contact she touched their dreams and found what she needed.

From the shadows and her blood a bow was created, a beautiful relic of a time long lost, all black iron, but shot through with silver in the pattern of chains. The arrow that Courtesan put to nock was filled with the malice of the void, and as she drew it back Courtesan imparted a flawless directive to the arrow.

It all happened in the space of a heartbeat. It should have struck the Death Knight through the heart. However, he turned at the last moment, and the arrow pierced his side instead of his chest.

Courtesan watched him stumble back, over the edge of the building. Not a heart shot, but his lungs would be filling with blood.

It was not that simple though, and a moment later he rose above her on his wings of shadow. Instead of continuing the fight he ran, fleeing over the wall of glass.

Courtesan drew back another arrow, and for a moment she tracked the other Death Knight. Then she let him go, turning her attention to what was unfolding below her. She found Lightning and the war ghosts that the Lunar still fought.

The arrow she released ended one of those ghost.

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* * *

The Faded Maiden of the Tomb stopped in her ceaseless wandering. She heard the voices of the Neverborn, heard them direct her to where she needed to be.

The called up a ghostly steed and rode across the Underworld, towards the many small Shadowlands that connected Chiaroscuro to the Underworld.

"Wait for me Courtesan. Wait for me!"

* * *

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Calis Cynis leaned over Fakor Ledaal. She had already stopped the bleeding of her wounds and those of Fakor, keeping the wound the old air aspect had taken from killing him immediately. As the fighting went on around her she concentrated, letting her essence flow into both herself and Fakor, healing the wounds as much as possible.

All she needed was a little more time.

* * *

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* * *

The war ghost moved towards the wood aspect, its great sword lifted high. Focused as she was on saving the life of the wounded the man it seemed as if she was unaware. Sadako Peleps did not know if Calis was truly that unaware or only waiting for the ghost to commit itself.

She did not give it a chance either way.

Sliding up to it she grasped it, refusing to let the pain of the broken wrist slow her, and then threw it over her shoulder, hard to the ground. Dropping her knee hard onto the glass breastplate held it pinned for the moment it took to strike it five times, each time focusing a different element.

The armour trembled as the ghost was ripped apart from within.

She stood, looked back at Calis, for the moment unthreatened, and then back to the gold fire surrounding the anathema as it fought with both Noda and Grey. She should stay with Close to Calis, but she could not ignore the anathema.

She moved back towards the fight.

Once she and the others had killed the demon it would be easy enough to clear out the ghosts.

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Calis let out a sigh of relief and joy as beneath her fingers Fakor took in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"It seems that the Dragons spare me for another day," the old man said.

She smiled happily down at him (or tried, with her still broken jaw she did not know what her mouth looked like). "No, they will have to do without your company for now." Her voice was mushy.

"Then our battle is not yet lost. Give me a moment and I will lend my spells to this task."

"We will certainly…" Her words were cut off by a cry of pain as something stabbed into her side, then grasped her about the shoulders and tossed her away.

Callis landed hard, but managed to get to her knees, spinning about back towards where Fakor lay. Blood leaked from her.

A slim woman, dressed all in form fitting black, golden weapons at her wrists, squatted over Fakor.

Before Calis could do anything the woman took the golden weapon on her right wrist and slashed open Fakor's throat. She heard a gurgling sound, a liquid gasp that was the last sound that the old air aspect ever made.

"No," she called out, almost breathless. "No!" louder, through her ruined jaw. She reached for her bow. "You'll die!"

The woman moved so fast. Calis was just getting to her feet, just reaching for her quiver when the golden weapons, spiders upon the woman in black's wrists, were driven up into her abdomen.

Calis felt them cut deep.

"I'm sorry," the woman said as she pulled one of the spider blades free, "but my Mistress hates you all too much." She slashed the edge of the weapon through Callis' throat, so deep the Wood Aspect imagined she felt it drag across her spine. "But, if it helps, I think once she has killed enough of you it might satiate her hunger for your deaths."

The roses in Calis hair withered, the petals falling to the ground.

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Mina stood among three Terrestrials. Fire, Earth and Water.

For the moment they were accosted by no ghosts and could focus on killing each other.

There were no threats, no boasting, all of them had the measure of the others.

The moon silver foxes were gathered at Mina's feet, facing out in all directions. teeth bared.

Somewhere close by there was a booming like thunder.

The three Terrestrials moved as one, as if they had been waiting for that signal.

The earth aspect swung his tetsubo, into the ground, once more sending a spray of broken glass at her. The water aspect rushed forward like a crashing wave, trailing sprays of mist. Flame blossomed from the fire aspect, to his sword, and he moved forward with a series of slashing blows.

Mina charged into the cloud of broken glass, her sword leaving afterimages of gold as she cut her way through the spray to strike down at the earth aspect. The foxes rushed forward, biting at the water aspect ankles, tripping her up, her attack falling short of Mina's back by several inches as she almost fell into the fire aspect's aborted attack.

As the foxes yipped and barked, like the chimes of silver bells, and ran to gather around Mina again she faced all three Terrestrials, no longer surrounded.

The earth aspect collapsed forward on to his knee, putting his hand against a fresh wound.

"Grey!" Noda yelled.

He pushed himself to his feet. "The earth endures."

Mina watched them, waiting.

Something was thrown from the darkness, landed in between Mina and the Terrestrials. At first Mina thought it was another of the strange bone spiders, but in the light of her anima she saw the green hair and the dead roses.

So did the three Terrestrials.

Noda's remaining eye widened. He whispered something.

"No, hold," Grey yelled, reaching out with his huge hand, as if he could stop the fire aspect.

Noda charged forward, sword swinging about him, the roar of flame growing.

Mina stood where she was, watching, waiting, sword held low at her side.

The silver foxes remained still at Mina's feet.

Slippered feet moved a half step upon the ground, as if Mina were at a courtly dance.

Bellowing the name of Hesiesh, the heat coming off of him like a forge, he struck down with his blade.

Mina seemed to hardly move, the flash of her sword an afterimage of golden light.

Completing her step Mina once more faced the earth and the water aspect.

A cut across her side stained her dress with blood.

Noda took several more steps, cut deeply from shoulder to opposite hip. He started to turn on wobbly feet, then fell face forward, the flames of his anima snuffed out.

"No more," the water aspect said, taking a step forward. She cried out, fell forward. The back of her lower leg had been slashed by something, hamstringing her.

Grey looked between the woman and Mina. He lifted his testubo above his head and started towards Mina.

"Don't!" the woman yelled.

"Trust in the Dragons Arian. Trust in the…"

His head was neatly taken from his neck, Mina standing just to his side. No one has seen her move.

"No more," Mina said. "Now the Dragon's bow down to their true masters."

Arian surged to her feet, managed to take one step before the silver foxes swarmed her, their teeth opening up arteries and they bit out small pieces of flesh. She screamed once and then was silent.

Mina stood there for a moment, then held out her blade. The foxes each took a final bite of the dead woman before leaping from the corpse, towards the blade. As they landed on it they became liquid sliver and flowed across the blade, returning it to the gold and silver weapon it had been.

Meep stepped out of the shadows, looking about. "I'm glad you are okay Mistress."

"And I you." She looked towards the head still laying on the ground. "Your work?"

"The air aspect as well."

"Good."

"I think we're the only ones left here."

"Lightning is close," Mina told her.

"I am," they heard the Lunar call from the darkness. Several seconds later she walked into the light of Mina's anima, her own silvery anima adding to the light. Her clothing was torn and slashed in a number of places, stained with blood, but she moved as if uninjured. "Cold Rain got away from. He might still be close."

"Where is Courtesan?" Meep asked, looking around.

"And Del Pret?" Mina voiced.

"Courtesan should be okay, she was providing fire support up to about a minute ago when I finished off the last war ghost. Let's find Del Pret."

Mina nodded, then walked over to where the dead body of the fire aspect lay. She knelt down and uncurled his fingers from his reaver daiklaive. "Let's go."

Lightning looked towards the jade sword Mina was carrying.

"What's that for?"

Mina smiled. "A trophy, in part, but, when the day comes that I kills the Empress, or whoever is ruling the Terrestrials at that time, this blade and all the other weapons I have claimed and will claim shall rain down around us." Mina pictured it in her mind. "And then I will kill her."

Lightning did not say anything for a moment as they walked away from the battle sight. "You dream large."

"We are Exalted are we not? Small dreams are not for us."

Lightning thought of Redigost. "They should not be."

Not far off they came across the decapitated body of the wood aspect, and close to it the corpse of the air aspect.

Mina stopped and looked at the headless woman, then knelt down and freed the quiver and jade artifact bow the dead woman wore across her back, handing her swords to Meep as she did so.

"Give this to Courtesan," Mina said, holding the dead wood aspect's weapon out to Lightning.

It took Lightning a few seconds to reach forward and take quiver and bow.

Mina smiled at her before taking the swords back from Meep.

Courtesan found them first, stepping into the still bright light of Mina's anima.

"He got away," was the first thing she said.

"Cold Rain?" Lightning asked.

Courtesan nodded.

"Damn it."

"He flew away."

"Are you okay?" Mina asked Courtesan, noting the blood that stained her clothing and the cuts in it.

"I'll be okay. The bow you got me was broken," she told Lightning. "I'm sorry."

"As good as it was it was still mortal work," Lightning said dismissively. "Take this instead, for now." And she held out the artifact bow.

Mina watched the interplay between the two women. It seemed distant, uncertain. She noticed that Lightning was careful not to touch Courtesan as she handed the weapon off to her. She looked towards Meep. When the woman noticed her gaze she simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled sadly.

They found Del Pret not long after. She was sitting on a chunk of glass, pulling bone fragments from her body.

"I'm sorry deers, but the necromancer got away."

"Are you okay?" Meep asked.

"Inconvenienced," she replied as she pulled a knife like shard of bone from her chest, then coughed something wet onto the ground. "Self repair systems will put everything right soon enough."

"Oh, okay then," Meep said, and looked wide eyed towards Mina.

"Can you walk?"

"I can stumble."

"Let me help you," Courtesan said, offering a shoulder to the Alchemical.

"Why thank you dear."

"We need to get out of here before the rest of those soldiers find a way in. I worked too hard to keep them alive to then kill them all myself."

No one disagreed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Aftermath**

Cold Rain and Ambrose once more found themselves in the morgue, but this time their wounds were more serious.

The arrow in his side had cut into his lungs, making him cough blood. He could also sense the hatred of the Neverborn in the arrow and the wound. The archer had been an Abyssal like him.

He looked at the ghost who stood by him and nodded.

The ghost took the arrow shaft her hands and used a small saw to cut it away. Then with an obsidian scalpel she began to slice the arrowhead from his flesh. Clenching fists tight so as not to scream Cold Rain let his mind focus on the archer, the Abyssal he had fought. Was she there as an agent of another Death Lord? Were the plans of Black Heron already in jeopardy?

Turning such things over in his mind let him ignore the pain as the arrow was removed and the wound stitched up.

He could only think of one Death Lord close enough to perhaps send an agent, and that was the First and Forsaken Lion.

Fear of that Death Lord easily dominated his thoughts, leaving little room for pain.

Finally the wound was treated and the ghost was applying bandages. He would heal fast enough, now that the arrow was out, but proper medical treatment helped.

He looked over at Ambrose who lay on one of the morgue's old examining tables. He was working with a ghost, performing some of the work himself, putting a new hand on his wrist.

New to him at least.

"I was betrayed," Cold Rain said.

Ambrose looked towards him, stopping in mid stitch, needle driver in his hand. "By who?"

"One of the nobles I am sure. Not that they would have known they were betraying me of course. It was foolish of me not to realize that I was not the only who saw the nobles of this city as useful tools."

"So they unknowingly betrayed you?"

"Yes," Cold Rain told him. "Though that will not save them."

"You are going to kill Flau?"

"Yes, I believe I will."

"Is that wise?"

"Pardon?" Cold Rain locked his gaze with that of Ambrose, waited for him to look away.

He did, but he did not back down, "It may cause problems. And we've already used more resources than we should have." He paused and then said. "Our patron would not be pleased."

Cold Rain did not reply immediately. It came back to the Black Heron. He supposed he could not afford to displease her.

"You are not incorrect," Cold Rain said, "but there are values in causing problems." He made it sound as if he had already considered Ambrose's objection. "We might force our opponents to act before they are ready."

"Of course," Ambrose agreed.

Brutal violence was simple, and was something that Cold Rain could and had used to good effect. Killing Flau and any other noble he could link to Flau would be easy enough, but finding a way to make the deaths serve a greater purpose would take time.

He stood, the treatment finished, and walked over to one of the morgue drawers, pulled it open. The rails had been lubricated and it made hardly a sound as it came out. The zombie lay there, as it had the past few days. He looked down into the milky dead eyes.

How would the Mask of Winters dealt with this?

The old ghost was a brilliant tactician, who had used assassination to strengthen his position. How might Cold Rain do the same? Another attempt at trying to bring his enemies into a trap? Could he find them, one at a time, and kill them that way?

His thoughts were interrupted by a metal on metal clang as the door at the far end of the room was flung open.

One of Ambrose's ghostly servants had entered. A young appearing woman, dressed in light armour, a bow over her shoulder.

"Someone approaches, through the Shadowlands," the ghost said.

"Who?" Cold Rain asked, and then, "describe them?"

"I've never seen them before," the ghost said, looking between Ambrose and Cold Rain. "A figure, all in soul steel armour, carrying a huge axe, riding upon a skeletal steed."

For a moment Cold Rain though the ghost was describing the First and Forsaken Lion, for the Death Lord was known for the black suit of armour that he always wore. However the Death Lord was known to be a giant of a man, and the ghost had said nothing about size.

"What else?" Cold Rain asked. He avoided asking about size, for he did not want to betray his fears.

"I don't know. A woman, I think."

A woman all in soul steel armour, carrying a huge axe. It was a description that meant nothing to him.

He looked towards Ambrose.

Ambrose shook his head.

"She comes here?"

"Yes. She is on a path that only leads here."

"How long?"

"At the pace she was moving I think about ten minutes."

"Can you move?" Cold Rain asked Ambrose.

"Two more minutes to finish this stitching."

"Soon as you are done, go. I will meet this visitor."

Ambrose focused his attention on the work he did on his arm. Not looking up he asked, "Why not flee as well?"

"Because a wandering stranger might be useful to us. Wandering the underworld…" His tone thoughtful as he trailed off.

"What?" Ambrose actually looked up from his work.

"Back to stitching. Once you are done and leave here see if you can find the ghosts of those recently killed, those of the Terrestrials."

Ambrose nodded and went back to his work, threading thin wires of soul steel through his skin.

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Courtesan had touched upon the dark essence on the Underworld, called upon it, and her own will, and had reached into the dead dreams of the Neverborn. For a moment she had been completely open to those dread beings, for a time shorter than a heart beat. But that had been enough, enough for the Faded Maiden to know where the other Abyssal was.

And now she was close, to a shadowland that would let her enter Creation, to where she would find Courtesan.

The steed she had dismissed, and she walked along a narrow crevice. The Faded Maiden had no fear of the tight walls that rose around her. She had no room for fear.

Ahead of her, an open door.

She passed through it, into a morgue.

A fine place, she thought. Strong in death.

A single person awaited her, seated upon one of the examination tables, clad in soul steel armour, a scythe of the same metal at his side. Upon his shoulder perched a ration. The black bird called at her in challenge.

"Calm Baron, she is a guest."

Faded Maiden did not dismiss the man, but her attention was elsewhere. She scented the air, making her senses sharper than any hound. Funeral spices, death, blood, all that she would have expected, but under it, the smell of clean soap, and talcum powder.

She followed that scent to another of the examination tables, upon it found bloody bandages and several arrows.

She picked one of the arrows up, smelled the fletching of desert bird feathers.

"Where did these arrows some from?" she demanded, looking towards the man. Her voice was harsh, croaky.

The man looked at her for several seconds, then said, "Most recently, my flesh."

The Faded Maiden had to restrain herself and keep her calm as she asked, "And the archer?"

"A small woman, blonde, dressed like a doll. I am most certain she is an Abyssal, like us."

He was fishing for more information. She saw no harm in giving him some. "Yes, she is an Abyssal, like me. I am here to end her."

"Then we might work together." He smiled.

That smile was a well crafted lie, but Faded Maiden asked, "Why do you need help?"

"It is not only your Abyssal that I face. At least two more Exalts, a Solar and Lunar, and a third that I am not certain of, but dangerous non the less."

Faded Maiden was not surprised to hear the Lunar was still with that little whore of a traitor, but a Solar as well? It did stack the odds in Courtesan's favour.

But she had a possible ally in this man, and she could not but help but think the Neverborn had provided him. Not that she could trust him completely.

"This place, it is Chiaroscuro, correct?"

He nodded. "It is."

No Death Lord claimed it, as far as she knew. She could ask him who his master was, but had no guarantee of getting a true answer. And such a question might make any sort of alliance impossible.

"And you know where they are?"

For now she would watch, find out what she could. When she returned to the Walker in Darkness with Courtesan's head she would tell him what she learned.

"That I do not know."

Behind her helm the Faded Maiden blinked in surprise. "What?"

"They hide from me well, and this is a large city. I've attempted to lead them into a trap, but it did not work well."

She thought about the bloody bandages and supposed that he might be downplaying how well it did not go. "Then what do you plan to do?"

"I think I have been open enough with you, now I would like you to tell me some things."

"And if I chose not to?"

"Good luck on searching on your own. I hope you can soften up the Abyssal and her other Exalted friends before they kill you. Assuming you can even find them."

She took a step forward and he put his hand upon his scythe.

The ration cawed again, spreading its wings.

For several seconds neither moved, then the Faded Maiden took a step back. "The archer betrayed our Master, hers and mine, and I will not tell you who my Master is." She waited a moment but the man said nothing. "I was sent to end her. She had made an ally of the Lunar you speak of, somehow. Once she is dead I will leave here and not come back."

"That is not a promise you can make, for your Master may say otherwise."

"What you say is not wrong, however my Master has no interest at this time in Chiaroscuro."

He regarded her for several seconds and she wondered if he was attempting to weigh the truth of her words.

If he truly did need help then he needed her. And if he needed her help that meant he could not find it elsewhere. Was he a renegade, or was his Master limited in what he could do?

Were she in a similar situation would she trust another Abyssal?

Of course not, but she would use one.

And then afterwards possibly attempt to dispose of such a temporary ally.

"Several Dragon Bloods were killed this evening. I am attempting to find their ghosts. I believe I will find their killer that way."

"And their killer is?"

"The Solar."

"It is certainly true that some ghosts have a connection to those who killed them, but it is not certain."

He shrugged his shoulders, but she suspected that he was more concerned than he let on. She would almost say desperate.

"I am called the Final Priestess," she said, for she would not give this stranger her true title, one that could lead back to Walker in Darkness."

He nodded. "I am called the Black Ration."

His title was certainly as made up as her own, but they did not need to know that much about each other to work together.

"Then Black Ration, I offer you my assistance. We share a common enemy."

"Agreed." He stood and took up his scythe. "Let me show you layout of this place, small as it is."

Faded Maiden nodded.

Once Courtesan was dead she might kill the man, if she thought she could succeed when the time came. But more important was seeing Courtesan dead and then returning swiftly to her Master.

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Mina's wounds had stopped bleeding, even the one in her side which had been the deepest. Meep looked down at her mistress laying face down, naked, upon the bed. She gently touched the skin of her shoulder, running her fingers down her back, stopping short of the wounded flesh.

A soft sigh was a reward for Meep, a tiny murmur of pleasure.

The skin around the wound was a little warm, and there was swelling along the edges of the cut. Exalted healed quickly, but it was simply foolish to ignore a wound. Shifting about so she straddled Mina across her lower back, just above the swell of her buttocks, she settled herself down, her bare skin against Mina's.

Next to them, upon some towels, was a small collection of medical tools. Meep filled a green jade bowl with clean water, then ran her hands across the rim, using a little of her essence to activate the magic within.

The water warmed, and a crisp scent, like pine and lemon, rose from it. She took a cloth, soaked it in the water, and then used it to clean the wound in her mistresses side as well as a number of other small hurts she had acquired. By the time she was finished the most minor of the wounds were completely healed.

She opened a slim case of green jade, revealing the eight needles within, four pairs made from each of the magical metals, save soul steel. Using the needles to gently pierce Mina's skin, feeding essence into them, she made the other wounds heal quickly, and without scars.

Finally she washed away the dry blood and dressed the wounds that had not yet completely healed. However even the wound in Mina's side looked more like a bad scratch than a sword slash that would have possibly been fatal for anyone other than an Exalt.

Mina had drowsed while Meep worked, but as Meep put the tools aside Mina woke fully and turned beneath the other woman so she lay on her back. She slid her hands up Meep's bare ribs, and then turned her wrists so she was cupping Meep's small breasts.

Meep felt her heart speed up, a building warmth between her legs.

"Not a single wound on you," Mina said, brushing her thumbs lightly across Meep's hardening nipples.

Meep took a deep breath and shook her head. "No Mistress."

"Good, I hate it when you get hurt."

"I don't like it when you get hurt Mistress."

Mina slid her hands beneath Meep's arms, then around her slim back, pulling the other woman down on top of her, turning her leg so her upper thigh slid between Meep's legs.

"I'm a Dawn, and your Mistress," she whispered into Meep's ear. "It is expected I will get hurt." Then she gently bit down on Meep's earlobe.

Meep trembled, her body stiffening as the teeth gently pinched the skin.

Mina released her teeth. "Do you understand Meep?" She lifted her leg, her thigh pressing more forcefully between Meep's legs.

"Yes Mistress," Meep said, a soft gasp.

"Good," and she turned her face and brushed her lips across Meep's. Meep parted her lips, opening her mouth, and she felt Mina's tongue slide between her teeth, their tongues twining together.

Meep knew her Mistress craved this, after the battle, after the death. For them to come together, warm, moist skin pressed close, the sense of oneness. She craved it as well.

With an air of almost desperation the two sought to give and receive pleasure as the night slid away towards the dawn.

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Part of Lightning could appreciate the beauty of the Abyssal. Her pale skin and blonde hair, red lips and large eyes. Had she just been a woman, with none of the feeling of connection and corruption, Lightning supposed she would have been attracted to her; A pleasantly attractive companion for a single night.

But she was not just a woman.

She was someone that Lightning was connected to. There was a bond between them that felt right, and yet greatly corrupted at the same time. It was so confusing that it was all Lightning could do at times to not savage the small woman, to tear her open and feast on her heart.

So that beauty was just one more problem.

Her gaze dropped down to the wound that Courtesan had taken, an angry, ugly wound, bleeding sluggishly, bruising like diseased flesh around the gash.

It would heal, soon enough.

Courtesan was an Exalted after all.

But Lightning had no stomach to smell the blood from the wound while it did.

She held out her left arm, and after making the nail of her right thumb long and sharp she slashed the skin open midway between left wrist and elbow.

Courtesan jumped back, trembling. She had been shaking ever since Lightning had ordered her to strip off her clothing.

"Drink," she said, growling as she held out her arm.

Courtesan looked uncertain, she looked frightened.

"Drink it," she ordered.

Courtesan moved closer, timid, frightened, like some scared rabbit.

It made Lightning angry.

Her lips closed over the wound, tongue lightly probing the cut as her throat worked and she swallowed the blood.

Lightning called upon the power of her own blood as it flowed into the other woman, directing it to heal the wound in Courtesan's side.

"Enough," she said, pushing Courtesan away, harder than she needed to.

Courtesan stumbled back, fell onto her bottom, a small trickle of blood running down her chin.

"Get dressed," Lightning ordered, and left the room, running her hand over the cut on her arm, smearing the blood down towards her wrist, closing the wound as she did so.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Weight of an Incoming Storm**

Morning came with thick clouds rushing in from the West. The air grew humid as a massive storm brewed out in the ocean. People in Chiaroscuro moved around as much they usually did, their calm suggested the storm would not break immediately.

Mina supposed that they knew the weather patterns better than she.

Meep walked beside her, in a sundress of pale blue silk and strappy sandals with low heels. She had forgone her usual big, floppy, wide brimmed hat as the sun was covered by clouds.

Mina wore a red cheongsam with a short skirt, a rose pattern on it created with darker shades of red. Thigh high stockings of white silk and a pair of black, flat slippers completed her outfit.

As usual they drew stares.

"A more attractive pair of women I do not think it has been my pleasure to behold in some time," a familiar voice called.

"Tristan," Mina said, pleased enough to see the man, but not wanting to be too obvious about it.

"Hi Tristan," Meep said with a wave. "How are you?"

Tristan sat at a food booth by the road. He wore a suit as he usually did, this one a soft grey, and his goatee and brown hair neatly trimmed and styled. She wondered if there were, perhaps, a touch more white at his temples than last time she saw him.

The people around them had stopped taking note of her and Meep, and passed around them as if they where avoiding them without realizing it.

"I am well Meep, thank you for asking. And I trust you are both in excellent health?"

"Is there any reason we shouldn't be?" Mina asked him. She was a little uncomfortable, just speaking in the street like this, but she supposed that Tristan was doing something to maintain privacy in the crowd.

He smiled and indicated that they should join him.

She and Meep took seats on either side of him.

"The Loom of Fate was, well, let us say that it was distressingly active concerning this city last night. There were some Exalted deaths involved."

"And this is a problem?" Mina looked at the man who maintained the food stand, but he was ignoring them as everyone else was. She would not have minded a drink, though the day was early.

"Mina, such occurrences always provide difficulties. People may more attention than they should."

"We can't hide forever. Nor do I plan to."

Tristan nodded after a moment. "I suppose that it is to be expected. Solars don't do subtle."

"I do subtle great," Meep said, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from behind the bar. Mina heard the clink of silver being left behind so she said nothing.

"Yes Meep, but I contend that you are the exception that will otherwise prove the rule. If I might ask, what has transpired within this city of crystal towers that required such a grandiose response?"

"There are dead in this city, plotting dead."

"And this is unique in what manner?"

Meep had secured two glasses and poured gin into them.

"A Death Knight, working with a necromancer, exploring the ruins and facilities beneath this city."

Tristan seemed to think about that for several seconds. "I suppose that would occasion the need for the grandiose."

"I will contend," Mina said, imitating his manner of speaking by lengthening the vowel sounds, "that you have not yet seen grandiose."

"This is what I will admit to being afraid of."

Meep put the glasses in front of them.

Mina picked up hers, raised it, and said, "Cheers." She took a drink. The gin was fairly good, the citrus coming through stronger.

Tristan lifted his own glass and took a drink. As he took it from his lips he asked, "Might I ask who were the Exalts killed? I suppose it would be too much to hope it was the Death Knight?"

"Five Dragon Bloods," she said. More than the gin, that statement made a warmth bloom in her stomach, gave her the heady feeling that alcohol could no longer.

Tristan sighed and looked to Meep. "She can't keep doing this."

His entreaty to Meep was improper, to Mina's way of thinking, as it was unproductive as Meep simply smiled and said, "I killed two of them."

Mina smiled herself, happy, for as much as Meep held no special hatred of the Terrestrials, that their deaths pleased Mina was enough to make Meep happy over them.

Tristan shook his head and drained the contents of his glass then held it towards Meep. "I would tell you that you had better be worried about a Wyld Hunt, but at the moment that seems less likely."

Meep refilled his glass then reached across to top up Mina before asking, "Why?"

"The Realm is in disarray, the master of the Hunt heads North and East to chase after rumours of children. It will take more than a handful of dead Terrestrials to make the Realm turn their attention this way."

"When you say that I can't help but think of it as a challenge," Mina said.

"Mistress." A hint of not quite disapproval in Meep's voice, more like exhausted concern.

Mina said nothing but would perhaps give Meep a talking to that evening about using such tones. "So we can focus on the actions of the dead and not worry about the Realm."

"The Realm, certainly. Individual Terrestrials that might hear about this, they could be a problem."

"Not for very long," Mina said, and took a drink from her glass.

Tristan ignored her and said, "I'll speak to some chosen of Saturn and see if they have an idea of what the dead might be up to."

"I appreciate it," Mina told him. "But you better hurry or else it might be moot. I am going to be my best to end this threat as soon as I can."

* * *

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* * *

They met on the highest floor of the tallest tower in Chiaroscuro. Mina had told Lightning how to get there, of the esoteric paths to reach a floor for a tower that no longer existed.

The two Solars were late, but Lightning had not really tracked the time, fascinated as she was by the view, and the nature of it.

"They say," Mina called as she entered, "that outside those windows Chiaroscuro exists as it did, before this tower fell.

Lightning turned towards Mina. She and Meep were dressed beautifully, yet in a relaxed manner, and they carried no obvious weapons.

"Who says?"

"The Sidereals, or at least a Sidereal told me."

"You know Sidereals?" Lightning asked.

"Just one. You?"

"I have met several over the decades."

Close by Meep was talking to Courtesan, asking if she was well. "What do you think of the Sidereals?" Mina asked her.

"I had heard of them before I ever met one, and all my teachers had different opinions. They all agreed that the Sidereals believed that they were protecting Creation, though most disapproved of the way they went about it.

"The ones I have met personally all seemed to have different agendas, working towards a handful of common goals. I never really feel like I can trust them completely, but I can work with them when it is required."

Mina seemed thoughtful.

Lightning turned back to the scene outside the windows. Below her was the extant city. There were people on the streets, but so high above them Lightning could make out little of them. She had seen several aircraft in the sky, but none had flown close. She reached out and tapped the glass. "What you happen if you went out there?"

Mina stepped close. "You can't get out there, so I've been told. Apparently nothing can break that glass. And even if you could it's also only a few hours of time. It loops back. I've watched it."

That was interesting, Lightning thought, wondering if the time beyond those windows could be reached. Even if you only had a few hours in the past… but no, she doubted she was really looking at the true past of Creation. "Likely just an echo."

"That's what I think," Mina agreed. "Not that it matters." She stepped forward and put her hand on the glass. "And even if I could break this, I would not step beyond."

She meant it, Lightning thought. Was it a steadfast certainty about her place in this time, or did she lack of the imagination to consider what the past might offer. "Not all would think that," Lightning said.

"I don't expect everyone to agree with the way I think," Mina said with a smile, and then she looked towards where Meep and Courtesan spoke and then back at Lightning. "Though in some cases their only other option will be to flee or die."

Careful not to show any reaction to that Lightning only nodded, as if suggesting she knew the feeling, but she wondered if Mina was challenging her. Not wanting to deal with such a situation if that was what it was she asked, "What do you want to do next?"

"Unless you can think of a way to find Cold Rain and his necromancer than I fear we have to wait."

"I could try scenting him out, but tracking the dead can be difficult at times."

"It might also lead you into a trap."

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to wait a few days? I have spoken to someone who might give us an answer."

Lightning looked back out the windows, at Creation from a time long ago, forgotten by even the longest lived of mortal memories. "I can give you a few days."

"Thank you," Mina told her.

* * *

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* * *

In the underworld, close or under the city of Chiaroscuro, an empty land, like the deserts around it, the city still too much of creation to be reflected in the lands of the dead, but for a few small sets of ruins here and there.

On a lonely piece of blasted rock and sand a ghost knelt.

Cold Rain recognized him as the old air aspect who had worked for Flau. Recently dead the marks of his demise were still upon him.

"Is this the only ghost you found?" he asked Ambrose.

"The only one that was recently killed by your Solar."

"Not my Solar."

The ghost sat upon the ground. His shape was uncertain, unstable, only the marks of his death truly clear.

Cold Rain knelt down across from the ghost. "You were called Fakor Ledall."

The ghost looked up at him, empty eyes. "I was," he agreed, voice thin, like a soft breeze. "I am surprised to be here. I should not have let myself become so attached to this world."

His voice had grown softer, his form more indistinct.

Cold Rain looked over his shoulder at Ambrose. "Prepare a working to chain this ghost, we are losing it."

"You will not do so," the Death Knight he knew as the Final Priestess said. She had been standing to the side, but now she strode forward. Cold Rain shifted out of her way as she knelt down where he had been. She looked at the ghost for a moment, then over at Cold Rain. "He was one of the Sworn Brotherhood?"

"He was."

"One of each aspect?"

"Yes, I believe so."

She turned back to the ghost, and in a voice, that while still harsh, sounded kind, warm, she said, "Tell me about the fire aspect you travelled with."

Fakor's ghost met the gaze of the woman for several seconds before he said, "Noda Sesu."

"You were friends?"

"We argued."

"You disagreed?"

The ghost looked thoughtful, eyes growing more sharp. "We disagreed occasionally. Noda was like his aspect." The ghost was silent for a moment before he said, "His family wanted him to take up command of one of their military units, but he followed us instead."

"He must have cared for you."

The ghost smiled. "Perhaps, or perhaps he cared for one of us more than the others."

The Death Knight did not press that but instead said, "He was a skilled warrior."

"Yes," the ghost agreed. "Like his aspect, fast and dangerous, but when he stood back to back with Grey he was grounded and focused."

"Grey?"

"Grey Ragara, aspected to the earth."

"And he and Noda worked well together?"

"Very well. Fire and earth, they provided each other with what the other needed, for Grey was often too calm and Noda was too wild."

She continued to talk to him, to ask him of the Sworn Brotherhood had belonged to.

Cold Rain watched, amazed, as the woman drew information from the ghost, but it was not what he told her that was amazing, it was the effect of the telling. Moment by moment the ghost grew more and more distinct, solid, its form settling into one very much like it had worn in life. The death marks were still upon its corpus, but they were less.

Finally the Final Priestess reached out and put a hand on Fakor's shoulder. "Your friends have moved on, and perhaps you will as well, but while you remain here might I ask your help?"

He looked at her with clear eyes for several seconds. "What would you ask?"

"Your friends are dead."

"Revenge won't bring them back," he countered.

"But, it may protect others who this monster will kill. How many other brotherhoods like yours might be broken?"

"What you say," he paused, "it is true."

"Your killer, the one who murdered you, that person binds you to this world, keeps you here.

He nodded in understanding. "Yes."

"The bond between you, that man," she pointed at Ambrose, "he can use that bond to find your murderer, if you will help us."

Fakor did not answer for a time, and Cold Rain had to restrain himself so as not to grab the ghost and order it to obey.

It was how he knew to do things.

He suspected the woman called the Final Priestess would not allow it.

"I will help you, as I can."

She stood and looked towards Ambrose. "You may speak to him. Show him kindness."

"Of course," Ambrose said, and he looked between Cold Rain and the woman before walking over and kneeling beside Fakor.

He brought out a large map of Chiaroscuro, spreading it out in front of himself and Fakor. Next he produced a bone, like the wooden handle of a paint brush, one end sharpened.

"Think upon your killer, how you died," Ambrose spoke as he drew the bone across the pad of his own thumb, cutting deeply, causing his blood to well up. "Think on everything you know of your killer, of the weapon they used to kill you." He brushed his thumb down the ghost's forehead and nose, leaving a red stripe.

As Ambrose put the end of the blunt bone into the blood welling up from his cut thumb Fakor said, "She used daggers, small blades of gold."

"Tell me what else you can recall," Ambrose told the ghost as he slowly swept the bone back and forth over the map.

"She was dressed in black, she pulled Calis away from me. She might have apologized."

"Think about her, remember your death, of the moment she killed you, of the bond that was formed then."

Around the ghost images of chains formed, wrapped around him, extending off away from him, fading away into the distance.

There were not many, and even as Cold Rain watched a few faded away.

"He will not stay long, even the fetter to his killer won't hold," the Final Priestess said softly.

He wondered why she cared, but did not ask, watching as Ambrose wove his necromantic spell, using the connection between killed and killer. The necromancer kept telling the ghost to focus on aspects of his killer. They learned she had short black hair, a slim built. They learned she appeared as if out of no where and killed quickly. Colour of eyes, shape of lips, a myriad of tiny little remembrances, and with each one the chain that tied Fakor to his killer grew more defined.

And then, after perhaps an hour Fakor sighed, and the chain suddenly faded away, a moment later the ghost did as well.

Ambrose made a sharp, angry clicking sound, then shook his head.

"Did you find out where the killer is?" Cold Rain asked, approaching to where Ambrose knelt.

The necromancer looked up, revealing dark circles like bruising under his eyes. "I did not get as much as I hoped." He turned his attention to the map.

Cold Rain looked as well. It was covered in small, red glyphs, and thin lines that connected them.

"The killer," Ambrose said, "is difficult to find, almost as if she can hide even from the fetters of those she killed."

"Therefore we know she is exalted," the Final Priestess said.

Cold Rain looked to her, then back to Ambrose. "What do we have?"

He put his hand on the map. "Places, where the ghost and this woman crossed paths, unknowing perhaps, but they shared a space, somewhere important. This would be where she killed Fakor." He pointed to one of the larger red glyphs.

"I see. And these?" Cold Rain indicated several glyphs, close together.

"Those are around the Field of Gold."

"So both Fakor and the killer spent time there?"

"That is what I believe."

"What is this Field of Gold?" the Final Priestess asked.

"A plain of melted, golden glass," Ambrose said, "a square mile near the centre of the city, surrounded by merchants and food stalls."

"People gather there?"

"Yes."

"So we'll find the killer there," The Final Priestess said, "if we watch." She shook her head. "Far too uncertain."

"Certainly," Cold Rain agreed, "but it is a place our killer frequents, likely a place that means something to her." He looked to Ambrose.

Ambrose nodded. "It must be important to her for the glyphs to have appeared."

"Then we'll use it to attract her attention, to get her focused on what we want her focused on. After that we'll use those levers to move her and her allies where we need them."

"You are certain you can do this?" the Final Priestess asked.

Cold Rain nodded. "It is my specialty."

"Then tell me what we need to do."

* * *

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* * *

Later, after the female Abyssal had left, Ambrose looked from map to Cold Rain. "We are still outnumbered, even without the uncertain new ally." He looked to his hand, the one that he had grafted on. "I am not sure we'll survive our next meeting with them."

He saw Cold Rain frown, angry, but he schooled his features to stillness in a moment. "We'll have to deal with it. Our resources are limited."

Ambrose nodded, looked to his hand again. "There might be another resource we can call upon. One that our common patron had made available, if necessary."

Cold Rain seemed curious. "A resource? You mentioned such a resource before, but that it would be unwise to call for help."

"That is true," he looked at his hand, "but that we could use more help seems obvious."

"That this person is not here suggests that things are not as simple as it might seem."

Ambrose nodded. "It is an uncertain resource, and if we misuse it our patron we'll be," he paused, "very angry. And likely our patron's," he paused again, "master will not be pleased as well."

"And our patron's master will likely direct that anger at us?"

"That is certainly possible."

Cold Rain turned and looked out over the empty lands of the Underworld. "And this resource is powerful?"

"Indeed."

"Enough to make a difference?"

"Certainly."

Cold Rain nodded. "Then we should probably use it."

Ambrose took a deep breath and let it out. The die, as it were, was cast. Now he could only wait and see what happened. "Indeed."

* * *

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* * *

The storm that had been brewing out at sea blew into the city shortly after the sunset. Wind picked up loose bits a litter, even small bits of broken glass from the ruins, driving it in a sometimes deadly cloud. The rain came down in sheets, washing the dust from the glass, filling storm drains and ditches, turning some streets into rivers that rushed to the harbour.

In some places the rain leaked into the city's underground, flooding out the lairs of strange creatures, causing them to come to the surface.

During storms like that most of the city tried to stay inside.

To be out in it was just too dangerous.

Flau sat in a large chair, watching the storm from his high tower. Though the wind was powerful enough to threaten lesser structures, the glass towers of Chiaroscuro stood proof against even great typhoons.

"How soon do you think their families will get the messages?" he asked a young man who sat close by.

The man looked out at the city through the windows. "Assuming they avoided this storm and are on their way right now, perhaps four weeks to get to the Blessed Isle. After that, it is hard to say."

Flau took a deep breath, let it out, and settled into his chair. "I can only hope their families do not cause problems with this." The man with him did not answer. Flau did not expect him to.

The death of the Terrestrials was a blow in many ways. That they had agreed to work for him had been a great boon. Without them his options diminished. And if their families blamed him for their deaths, he would certainly have trouble.

He could only hope stories of golden light might be enough to direct their anger elsewhere.

Assuming of course they had any family that would take offence.

It had seemed that the Dragon Bloods were on the outs with others from the Island.

They had never explained it, he had never asked.

The storm picked up, driving rain against his windows, soft thumps that drowned out other noises.

The rain still pounded on the glass when an odd smell made him turn towards his clerk,

Flau shouted and stumbled from his chair.

The man was dead, his head cut from his body.

"Guards!" he nearly screamed.

"They can't hear you, being that they are also dead."

Flau looked to see the man called Rayne seated upon a sideboard, pouring himself a drink from a crystal decanter. He wore black armour, and leaned against the wall, close to where he sat, was a huge scythe.

"Rayne…"

"Cold Rain, actually," he told Flau as he picked up his glass, holding it up to the light of the room's oil lamps.

"What, how…" Flau felt as if he mind were slowing, he was still trying to make sense of what the man had said. All his guards dead?

"I am here to kill you," Cold Rain said, and drank down the contents of the glass.

Flau turned to run.

He felt something hit him the back of the head, knocking him sprawling.

The glass.

His head was fuzzy and he felt dizzy, falling as he tried to get to his feet.

Then he was grabbed and lifted up, placed on his feet upon the thick carpet, turned to face Cold Rain.

The man took a step back, swinging his scythe around.

"No," Flau said, but the weapon was already coming around for his neck.

* * *

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* * *

Storm or no, beasts from the underground or no, there were some people who had to be out in the weather.

Guards, beggars, whores, unlucky apprentices and servants, sent out on this errand or that. Also those who had secrets took advantage of the storm to meet in hiding; Agitators, anarchists, lovers and adulterers.

Around the Field of Gold Faded Maiden found targets and she killed more than thirty of them, taking their heads with her huge ax. The rich and poor, male and female, old and young, it did not matter. If they crossed her path in the darkness she killed them.

She left the bodies, but she gathered the heads.


	12. Chapter 12

**It Falls into Place**

The storm blew back out over the ocean late the next morning, and the sun shone down on a city washed clean, the glass sparkling with extra vibrancy.

There were a lot of things that Mina would have liked to be doing.

Visiting Pajou was not one of them.

He had sent messages out, early in the morning, when the storm had still lashed the city, left at various message drops she used with the man. He seemed desperate, the messages filled with veiled threats. As much as she did not like any of it, she was curious.

Servants showed her into his office as soon as she arrived. Once the door was closed and they were alone he said, "Flau was killed last night."

"And this tragedy means something to me?"

He frowned, lips pressed into a tight line.

He was angry.

"His head was left on the steps of the Tri-Khan's palace."

"It sounds like someone is sending a message," Mina said, trying to project a demeanour of disinterest, though she was curious.

"The heads of all his staff were also placed on those steps, as well as the heads of thirty people whose bodies were found around the Field of Gold."

Mina almost asked him to repeat that, but she was not willing to give away that he had actually surprised her.

"The Tri-Khan was not pleased, of course, and he called together any that might provide him an answer as to what had happened, including me."

"So you think this had something to do with that mess of an operation from a few days before?"

"Don't try to sell me that tale," he said as he stood. "I heard from my soldiers, that you had run ahead, were likely within the ruins when the entrance collapsed. You know what happened there!" His voice had risen and he was yelling at the end.

Mina stood as well, leaning forward over his desk. "And what are you suggesting?"

Pajou twitched, and she saw him look to the large duelling sword he had hung on his wall.

"I am not suggesting anything," he said, seeming to force his gaze away from the weapon. "But the Tri-Khan is demanding answers, demanding that no more of his people be killed. I have told him I will find out what I can. If answers are not forthcoming I'll have to tell him specifically about you."

Mina smiled. She had been expecting something like that.

He must have misinterpreted her smile for he pulled his lips back and snarled, "I may not have been able to find wherever you live in this city, but don't think the Tri-Khan and his resources would be so easy to avoid."

"Be careful Pajou, you don't want me to think you are threatening me." Her tone was light.

"It is simply a statement of facts." His tone had an undercurrent of nervousness.

Mina nodded, stood up straight. "Very well Pajou, I will see what I can find out. I'll send you word of any discoveries I make."

He stared at her for a few more seconds, as if he was not sure if he had won or lost the dispute. He sat back down. "Good."

Mina left him, before he could say she could go.

* * *

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* * *

The yacht's cabin was crowded with all the people there. Courtesan had taken a seat that put her as far from Lightning as she could arrange, though she and the Lunar were still uncomfortably close.

The water was still a little choppy from the recent storm and caused the craft to bob about, making her feel a hint of nausea.

The nausea as was a far off, almost nothing ,for she had sensed the Lunar was angrier, as the blood that had been given Courtesan created a stronger connection between them, one that Lightning obviously did not care for.

If Mina had not called them together than it was likely, almost certain, Lightning would have just avoided her as much as possible.

The gathering was made up of her, Lightning of course, Mina, Meep and Del Pret. A new person joined them, a man named Tristan. He was well dressed, well spoken. Mina had introduced him as a Sidereal, a servant of Secrets.

Mina had told them what she had learned, of the deaths of Flau and all the others.

"A ploy to draw us out, a fairly good one all things considered."

"That seems a likely conclusion," Tristan said, leaning back in his chair. He was between Mina and Meep, near the large window that looked out over the port side of the craft.

"And what have you found out?"

He looked at Mina and then the others. "As far as those who serve Saturn are aware none of the Death Lords are making any serious plays against this city."

"What does that leave us?"

"Independent players. Powerful ghosts. Rogue Death Knights."

"There is the Black Heron, she's close."

Everyone turned their attention to Courtesan who suddenly wished she had not spoken.

"You know details about the actions of the Black Heron?" Tristan asked her.

Lightning was staring at her, eyes hard, angry.

"Rumour," Courtesan said, tiny quaver in her voice.

"Don't be so you Tristan," Meep said and leaned out over the table, towards Courtesan. "What do you know?" She sounded genuinely curious.

"I've heard," she started, "that the Black Heron is not a happy servant of the First and Forsaken Lion."

"Wait," Mina said, "Black Heron? First and Forsaken Lion?"

"Death Lords," Tristan answered, "as our friend," he looked towards Courtesan, "said. Powerful ghosts, the Lion perhaps holding the greatest military forces of the Underworld. But," the Sidereal paused, looked uncertain, "apparently barred from exercising that military might."

Courtesan had heard the story, at least as the Walker had known it. "That is how it is understood in the Underworld."

"So you don't think this Lion would be moving against the city?" Mina asked, looking between Tristan and Courtesan.

Courtesan shook her head while Tristan said, "From what information that is available I would doubt it."

"And the Black Heron?"

"He loves her, they say, and she hates him, but must serve." This Courtesan was a little more certain of, for Walker had found that tale amusing, and shared it often.

"This is all interesting," Lightning said, "but even if the Lion or the Heron are involved, any direct involvement sounds like it would be curtailed, correct?"

"That's…" Courtesan started, but a hard glare from Lightning made her close her mouth as she turned her attention to Tristan. She sat back in her chair, trying to become smaller, looking down at her feet.

"That is likely the situation," Tristan said. "The final result will be that the forces arrayed against you will likely be no greater than a powerful ghost or rogue Death Knight might manage to amass."

"So considering the resources they have, how do they play this?" Lightning looked towards Mina.

Courtesan felt Mina's attention on her but did not look up.

"They'd expect us to watch the area around the Field of Gold. It's where they have been hunting. So I think the the killer, or killers, will let us find their work, then let us find a trail, leading us on. They tried to set a static trap, and that did not work, now they will set their trap on the run, after we've committed to the chase. I am certain they want all of us there. They'll give us time to gather."

"An interesting strategy," Tristan said. "Will it work?"

"No, because they assume that we can't or won't leave."

"Courtesan and I are certainly willing to leave," Lightning said. Courtesan suspected that Lightning had not even looked towards her.

"Meep and I can leave as well, if the Tri-Khan makes trouble for us, come back later. Our opponents do not know that and likely expect a certain amount of desperation from us."

"And what about Chiaroscuro and its people?"

Mina did not answer immediately, and her tone was not as certain when she did. "They've attracted the attention of the Tri-Khan, which was their mistake. The mortal forces here might not have as easy a time in dealing with this threat, but they can deal with it.

"However, it may not come to that. We might be able to move fast, take out the killer or killers before they can run, turn their trap around on them. Of course that is what they expect us to try, so they will think they are ready for it."

"You sound like you don't think they will be."

Courtesan was still looking down at her feet, so she could only imagine that Mina was smiling as she said, "I will certainly try to ensure they won't."

* * *

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* * *

Cold Rain looked at Ambrose, then again to the man they had come to meet.

Slim, male, but pretty, wearing a blue suit, bare chested, black, high heeled pumps on his feet. His long reddish purple hair was full, curling, hanging down his back. His bangs were thick, completely hiding his eyes.

When he smiled he showed pointed teeth, like a shark.

"Ambrose, how wonderful, I am so happy you contacted me. My mistress has kept me on such a tight leash. I was so bored!" He had a high voice, but not high enough to sound feminine.

Ambrose coughed. "Cold Rain, this is Son of Crows, a Death Knight in service to our Patron."

"Our Patron?" Son of Crows asked, and laughed. "Is that how we are to behave, never saying her name? Truly such a thing is dull Ambrose. Dull, dull, dull!"

Cold Rain felt uncomfortable in the other Death Knight's presence. There was something in the voice, in the manner of the man that felt wrong.

"It is how we have chosen to refer to her," Ambrose said.

The tone seemed careful, combining an obvious deference with an undercurrent of command that he did not lay claim to.

It was apparently the right way to go about it for Son of Crows said, "Very well, I'll play the dull game."

"We thank you," Ambrose said.

Cold Rain supposed that the necromancer spoke for him as well, and he offered no correction, but he would not plead for the service of Son of Crows.

Son of Crows turned towards him. He smiled, showing those pointed teeth of his. "You are in charge here?"

"I am," Cold Rain replied.

"Oh, that does not sound dull. You know Cold Rain, I can help you." Still smiling he stepped closer. "All you have to do is ask. Please ask."

There was some sort of bargain being offered, some secret that Son of Crows wanted to reveal.

"I don't need to ask for your help," Cold Rain told him. "You will give it."

The smiled faded into a tight lipped frown and even though Cold Rain could not see the other's eyes he knew his gaze was locked on him.

Then he smiled again, slower, not so broad. "Of course," he said, "of course. I give my help freely."

He snapped his fingers. "Stand up." His voice was flat, nearly a whisper.

Something shifted behind him, and for a moment Cold Rain wondered if the ground itself was heaving, but what rose up behind Son of Crows was a warstrider, all black of soul steel and standing over twenty feet tall.

"Let's smash our enemies!" Son of Crows laughed.

"This is not good," Ambrose said softly.

Cold Rain was not certain what the necromancer meant. He looked at the powerful weapon that Son of Crows had brought and felt certain that they would indeed smash their enemies.

They would just have to keep a low profile as they did so.

Sons of Crows had continued to laugh, the volume of it raising as it grew more strident. More mad.

Perhaps low profile would not be possible.

Cold Rain suddenly had an inkling as to why Ambrose had been concerned by the revelation of the war strider.

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Alone in the yacht's cabin, a fine sake poured into glasses, Tristan asked Mina, "Courtesan, who exactly is she?"

Mina put the sake glass between her palms, rolled it gently. "Who indeed. A Solar perhaps? Another Sidereal?" She looked to Tristan.

Tristan shook his head. "No, or at least, probably not."

"Probably not?"

"I suppose she could be one of Saturn's, hiding it well, but I think it is more likely she herself is an Abyssal."

Mina stopped rolling the glass in her hands. "What?"

"You must have suspected."

Mina shook her head. "Why would I?"

"Because you are an Exalt beset by many enemies. You should look for signs."

Mina thought about that for a moment. "Assuming she is an Abyssal, why would she be with Lightning? Do you think Lightning knows?"

"I suspect Lightning knows exactly what she is."

"So why are they together?"

"There are Abyssals who go rogue, some that even directly oppose the will of their dead masters."

"I don't get that feeling from Courtesan. She seems, well, submissive."

"I will trust your assessment on that, being as you are the expert."

Mina smiled and took a drink of her sake.

"Will you ask?"

Mina shook her head. "Not now."

"You trust them?"

Mina thought about it. "I mostly trust Lightning, and I am certain that Courtesan will not cross her, unhealthy as that relationship is."

"I am afraid for the moment I cannot give that as much credence as you. I will be watching Courtesan."

"So you are going help?"

" I will try."

"I appreciate it. I would rather not abandon Chiaroscuro." She put her glass down and stood.

"Even if you win, you may still have to."

For a moment Mina stared at Tristan, then nodded. "I'll hope it won't come to that." She left the cabin, stepping out onto the yacht's deck.

Meep stood up there, hand wrapped out a line, leaning out over the water, looking towards the harbour's shore. She looked back as Mina stepped onto the deck. "The others are almost at shore."

Moving to stand beside her Mina looked across the water, at the small boat nearing a dock that sat near the waterline. "Did you know that Courtesan might be an Abyssal."

"Yes, that seems likely," Meep answered.

"What?"

"It seems likely." Meep swung around, still hanging from the rope, to face Mina. "You can smell embalming spices on her, actually quite peasant if a little morbid, and the cloak she sometimes wears seems to carry the musty scent of a tomb."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew." Meep smiled guilelessly.

Mina frowned. "I honestly don't know if I should punish you or not."

Meep continued to smile.

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"I don't care for your ally," the woman calling herself the Final Priestess said to Cold Rain.

Cold Rain did not look up from the maps spread out in front of him. As all he could think of was to agree about not caring for the Son of Crows he chose to ignore her.

"There is an unwholesome insanity about him."

Again Cold Rain chose not to reply.

She put a gauntleted hand upon the table, covering the part of the map he was looking at. "I care little about the insanity, but if he threatens my hunt I might very well kill him."

He looked towards her. "I understand."

"Do you? I am not making empty boasts Black Ration. I don't doubt the strength of his machine, and he has been trained, but never tested. I will kill him."

Careful not to sigh he instead nodded. "As I say, I understand. His death would be an inconvenience so I will be certain he sticks to the plan."

She said nothing for several seconds, then nodded. "Are we ready to start?"

"Soon. The necromancer will finish our murder victims by this evening, then we can start."

She took her hand from the maps. "And you'll lead them out into the desert?"

He took one of the maps and put it atop the others. "Not too far away, but far enough that we won't be disturbed. It is flat and empty, which will deny them hidden snipers, and will allow the warstrider to be used to its full effect. There are also several small shadowlands out there, just big enough for us to bring in support."

"All of this is based on the assumption that they can be brought out there."

Cold Rain nodded. "I am certain that they are watching. When the dead bodies start showing up they will know and react. The victims will be dead when they walk to where they are to be found. It will take some time, a few days, to lay the clues and the false killers. As the deaths build up, if I am right, they will have more pressure put on them from the mortal authorities, and even if they don't our victims will appear to be part of some necromantic working. I don't think they will ignore it because I don't think they can."

"But they might."

"They might," Cold Raid admitted. He did not think they would, did not want to think they would as his strategy required them to react.

He wondered if the Final Priestess realized how uncertain he actually was in his plan. Likely she was but was saying nothing as she did not have anything better to offer.

Ambrose entered the small, underground room they had set up as their base of operations.

"Ah," he said, sounding a little breathless. "We have a problem."

Cold Rain looked up at him. Beside him the Final Priestess was likely fixing her gaze on the necromancer as well.

He looked nervous, more than nervous, scared.

"What?" Cold Rain asked.

"Our other member has taken his warstrider."

"Taken it where?" The Final Priestess asked.

"I am not sure, but he did say to where the enemies are."

"The Field of Gold," Cold Rain said.

"Did you tell him that our enemies would be there, watching?" The Final Priestess demanded.

"It was part of the plan," Cold Rain answered, hating that for a moment he sounded defensive.

The Final Priestess' closed helm was turned towards him for several seconds, unseen eyes watching him. Then she spun about on her heel and walked towards the door, grabbing up her axe.

"What are you doing?"

She did not look back, brushing by Ambrose with enough force to make the necromancer stumble. "Insane or not, if my target is indeed watching she is going to be focused on the warstrider which gives me the opportunity to come on her unawares.

Cold Rain watched her go and then looked at Ambrose. "She's right. If Son of Crows wants to cause chaos then we have to take advantage of it."

Ambrose looked at him for a moment. "Our patron will not be pleased."

"They we had better make sure this succeeds."

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Son of Crows had been told the story about the warstrider he piloted. Joy in Suffering of Others had been built by the First and Forsaken Lion, a gift for the Black Heron. She had spat on it, refusing to ask for it.

Later she had arranged for it to be stolen and had presented it to Son of Crows.

The royal warstrider was constructed of Soulsteel, thousands of ghosts worth, and it stood 26 feet tall.

That it was a royal warstrider was wonder enough, for few recalled how they were made, but Joy in Suffering of Others was partially possessed by a powerful ghost that could act as an autopilot, and more wondrous still the suit was equipped with a flight system.

Son of Crows laughed, suspended in the fuselage of the warstrider, as it flew over Chiaroscuro towards the Field of Gold. Another storm had blown in from the sea, and the dark giant was nearly invisible against the clouds. The sound of the flight system was in part masked by the blowing winds and the rumbling of thunder.

As a result the weapon was not really seen until it landed, huge feet and legs tearing apart several small stores as it skidded across the ground.

Mimicking the movements of its pilot Joy in the Suffering of Others turned its head back and forth, and it reached up to it shoulder and grasped the hilt of the huge daikliave mounted there.

Some people had fled when the warstrider crashed through the stores, but others, braver, foolisher, had stayed close, staring up in wonder at the giant.

The warstrider pulled the weapon from over its shoulder, the huge daikliave almost as long as the warstrider was tall.

When Son of Crows spoke his voice was amplified and echoed out through the Field of Gold, drowning out the sound of wind and thunder. "Face me Solars! Face me Lunars! I have come to kill you!"

A few of the spectators backed away. Some ran.

The huge sword came apart along its length, separating in chevron shaped pieces of soulsteel, each joined to the ones above and below by a rod of soulsteel the size of a man's arm.

The warstrider snapped the segmented sword around like a whip, the teeth cut through wood, glass, metal, flesh and bone like they were soft wood to a steel saw.

The people who had remained fled screaming, leaving behind the dead or those too wounded to flee.

Son of Crows began to laugh as the warstrider strode forward, laying about itself with its flexible sword, kicking at the structures, like a child smashing doll houses.

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"I don't think Mistress expected this," Meep said.

She was crouched on a roof of a building, several hundred feet away from the warstrider.

"Who would?" Courtesan knelt nearby, stringing her bow.

The two of them, being the most stealthy, had been chosen to watch while the others remained hidden.

"I should tell the others."

"They are probably already aware." Courtesan put an arrow to bow, stood, drew, and fired an arrow.

Several hundred feet, with high winds and in the rain.

An impossible shot.

And yet the arrow struck the warstrider's helm. Likely it had done no damage, but what a shot.

"Run," Courtesan said. "Meet up with the others. I'll draw its attention."

"You already have."

The warstrider had turned towards where they had hidden and was moving towards them, the huge machine's stride bringing it closer with each step.

"Then I'm doing well," Courtesan said as she dashed across the roof and leapt to another building, firing as she went. Another impossible shot and another arrow shattered against the giant's armour.

"Stay safe!" Meep yelled, and then went the other way, fading into the shadows as she ran for where Mina and the others hid.


	13. Chapter 13

**Battle of the Field of Gold**

A booming voice had called a challenge.

Mina had exited the shop's basement, stepping up onto the street.

Buildings blocked her view, but she heard the sound of destruction, a handful of screams.

"This does not seem good," Del Pret said.

"No. I think someone might have overreacted."

Lightning had come up as well. "The nobles?"

Mina thought about it for a second. "If we're lucky."

Lightning shifted forms, flesh and bone changing and compressing. A moment later where the woman had stood was a falcon the size of an eagle. It spread its wings and powered into the air.

"Come on," Mina called to Del Pret as she ran towards the sounds.

A flash of lightning lit the city, making all the glass seem to glow for a second. The booming thunder followed a moment later, echoing off glass towers.

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Rapidly cooling air made fight difficult, but Lightning stuggled through the tricky downdrafts, quickly gaining the height she needed for the bird's eye view she wanted. Below her the Field of Glass was laid out like a map, bird sharp eyesight honed by charms would have allowed her to pick out rodents in the rain and darkness.

The warstrider was easy to see.

She tracked its movement, looked to where it was going, saw Courtesan firing arrows at it, leading it.

Little fool, Lightning thought as she folded her wings and dove towards the warstrider.

Perhaps only feet above it she changed again, taking on her powerful warform, an amalgamation of the deadly clawstrider and her mortal shape.

Slamming into the warstrider at speed nearly knocked it down, but its strength was great and while it stumbled to one knee it did not fall.

Faster than she would have credited the giant was up on its feet again, the whip sword flowing in a complex pattern, coming up to cut deep into Lightning's flesh. She snarled in pain, her claws failing to do any more than scratch the armour.

As the sword whipped around again she leaped away from the warstrider, crashing through the glass front of a building.

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* * *

Meep found Mina and Del Pret close to where the warstrider had come down.

"Mistress, over here!"

"Meep? What's happening?"

"A warstrider, I suppose it flew, thought it might have fallen from the sky."

"A warstrider," Del Pret said. "Oh my. I must see this. I've heard of them of course, but never had a chance to see one yet."

"I don't think you'll want to get too close," Meep said.

"I am sure I won't get that close."

"Where is it?" Mina asked.

"Courtesan was leading it off that way." She pointed.

"Let's go," Mina said.

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* * *

The rain was now coming down hard enough that it was getting difficult to see, but Cold Rain did not slow. Ahead of him, and getting farther with each second, the Final Priestess was sprinting, seemingly unhampered by her heavy armour.

Through the rain, looking displeased, Baron flew down and landed on his shoulder. The ration cawed unhappily and shook its feathers.

"I am sure you are upset," Cold Rain said, not slowing his run. "What did you see?"

Baron cawed loud, screeching a few times.

"Back to the air," Cold Rain ordered. "Find out everything you can."

The ration let out an angry cry, but took to the air, flying into the rain and the dark.

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* * *

Taking the shape of a yeddim Lightning crashed against the warstrider, nearly knocking it over. Even as the huge whip sword came around to hit her she shifted again, small, agile form of a leopard, climbing the warstrider until she perched on its shoulders.

Shifting again to the size of a mouse she scrambled across the metal surface, seeking an opening with which she might enter the warstrider. If she could get inside the armour would offer no protection to the pilot.

Something came down on her, a sharp stabbing pain in her mouse back.

She shifted back to panther, flipping over, lashing out at the attack.

A black ration avoided the claws, just, cawed angrily as it took to the air.

She was certain she knew the bird and its owner.

With a scream panther became falcon and took off after the ration.

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* * *

Meep stood next to Mina, looking at the warstider.

"Mistress?"

Mina freed her serpent sting staff. "This is a mess."

"Agreed. Do we fight?" Meep looked to her Mistress. Her black widow razors had climbed down her arms and were ready on her wrists.

For several seconds Mina said nothing. Meep watched, content to wait for the answer.

"We fight."

Meep nodded.

"Stay back, there are bound to be others. Watch my back."

Meep smiled, went up on her toes and kissed her. "My pleasure Mistress."

Mina reached out, caressed her face, fingers trailing gently across her skin. Then she turned and ran towards the battle.

Meep was on her heels.

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Son of Crows looked about, the warstrider's systems allowing him to see through the rain and compensating for the darkness. He had been told a Lunar was among the enemies, had seen as much himself for he had been attacked by a number of animals.

However it seemed the Lunar was gone, for the moment, and he could focus on the archer. So far none of the arrows had managed to damage the warstrider, but he had felt the murderous intent with each strike.

The archer was staying ahead of him.

On the rear of his suit, like a cape billowing, the flight vanes spread out.

With a roar the warstrider lifted from the ground.

"No more running," he yelled.

The huge suit shifted slightly, a small weight landing up on it. Head and helm turned as one, but before Son of Crows could see what had alighted upon him one of the flight vanes was yanked to the side, and the warstrider, thrust unbalanced, crashed to the ground.

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Mina had heard of warstriders, but she had never seen one.

And she had never pictured them being so tall, with the ability to fly.

Surely the only way to fight such an enemy was to be in a warstrider oneself.

However, as she did not have a warstrider she would have to find another way to do so.

Leaping from a roof, landing upon the metal giant, using her serpent sting staff to twist a flight vane off true, she managed to force the warstrider to the ground.

It was hardly a crash and it was quickly back on its feet, the whip sword snapping around it. Mina had to leap from its back, her serpent sting staff meeting the deadly chevrons of the whip sword, turning them just enough.

She landed some distance behind it, in a low crouch.

The huge suit of armour turned smoothly, sword snaking out towards where she crouched. It moved much like a some great serpent, the tip swaying in an undulating pattern.

Left or right?

Which way would it strike from?

Last moment she moved right, her multi section staff striking left, knocking the tip high. Going in low she charged under the extended blade, towards the legs of the warstrider.

She heard a sound, a series of peels, like multiple bells being rung in quick succession.

Above her the whip sword compressed into a huge daiklaive. The sword came down at her, whistling as the blade descended.

On her brow the caste mark of the Dawn glowed as she swung out with her serpent sting staff, the end of her weapon knocking the sword away from her.

It smashed into the ground at her side.

There was a blur of grey as someone ran past her.

It was Tristan, surefooted, running up the length of the sword. He spun his starmetal wrack staff about his head and brought it down in a shower of red sparks against the wrist of the warstrider.

Sidereal and sword both dropped, Tristan landing smoothly as the sword clanged loudly to the ground.

Mina was already running, weaving between its legs, she wrapped her staff about the leg, pulled it into a tight clinch, then actually threw the huge warstrider off its feet and into one of the buildings.

All around her was a blaze of golden flames.

"I take it you were somewhat surprised by the appearance of that?" He pointed towards the warstrider that lay among the ruined building. He voice was raised over the sound of falling rain.

"I admit it took my by surprise."

They heard the sound of breaking wood and shattering glass as the warstrider shifted and began to get up.

"Any thoughts on how to defeat this?" Mina called, shifting her attention fully to the warstrider.

"Without another warstrider I am afraid our options are rather limited."

"I was afraid of that."

"Mistress."

Mina looked to her side where Meep had suddenly appeared. She was clothed in her black bodysuit, her golden spiders nowhere to be seen. "Any thoughts Meep," Mina asked, once again turning back towards the warstrider.

"There," Meep said, moving close to Mina, pointing off into the distance. "The buildings."

Mina looked where Meep indicated. There were tall towers of glass out there, hard to see in the dark and the rain. She knew them, most of them damaged to one extent or another, rented out by the Delzahn to rich merchants.

Mina looked through the darkness, at the silhouettes of the buildings, some with broken, jagged tops, like crowns. She blinked, not from the rain, but in surprise. "Can you do it?" she asked Meep.

"If you can get it in place," Meep answered.

Mina considered her options, the strategies required, the potential cost. "We'll need Lightning's help."

"I don't see her."

The warstrider had regained its feet.

"Hope she shows up soon. Go with Courtesan, lead it in chase as far as you can."

"Yes Mistress," Meep said as she ran off into the rain, disappearing into the darkness.

Tristan had moved closer. "You have a plan."

Mina nodded. "It's terrible."

"It's said a terrible plan of the Dawn Caste is better than the best plan of even the finest mortal general."

"Really?"

"I truly hope so."

* * *

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* * *

Elsewhere Lightning flew high, keen raptor vision seeking out the fast moving ration somewhere below her.

She spotted it, flying low, close to the rooftops, keeping under cover where it could.

Wings folded she dropped through the sky, talons extended.

Silent wings, no screaming call, she hit the bird hard, snapping Baron's back.

He was not dead when she drove him to the ground, but Baron did not live long for her cruelly hooked beak tore into his back, slicing through bone and muscle, seeking out the still beating heard.

She tore it free and ate it, hot blood filling her throat as she swallowed his heart, his form, his memories and even some of his destiny. Falcon shuddered, melting into the dead ration's twin.

It called harshly, then lowered its head to pick at the bloody dead body it perched upon.

After a moment Lightning lifted her head, shook it, then once more took the form of the falcon and took off from the roof. She needed to get back to the real fight.

She would find use for the ration's form later.

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Cold Rain slowed his run.

For a moment he felt something was wrong, as if he had lost something.

It had passed quickly and he could not quite work out what it was.

He might have puzzled it out, had he more time, but he had already lost sight of the Final Priestess and Son of Crows had likely already started whatever his mad plan was.

Putting the mystery aside for the moment he increased his pace, hoping it would not be too late.

* * *

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* * *

Son of Crows was laughing as he leapt Joy in the Suffering of Others forward, crashing through some small building, sword, recently retrieved, lashing out in an attempt to cut down the archer.

As she had several times before she managed to leap clear, her and the other woman with her.

"You can't run forever," he giggled, sword separating into a whip as he snapped it out to crash through another building.

The answering arrow crashed into his warstrider's wrist, finding a gap in the armour the earlier attack had opened. He felt the hand grind, its range of motion reduced as gears and pulleys ground against the arrow.

"You can't run forever," he snarled again, once more snapping the whip sword out, but this time it did not go exactly where he wanted, crashing several body lengths away from the two women.

Howling in anger he continued after them.

* * *

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* * *

From above Lightning saw the battle. The warstrider seemed focused on Courtesan, who was certainly helping that focus as she sent arrow after arrow to smash against the armour of the giant.

She could see Meep with her as the two women leapt from roof to roof, managing to stay ahead of the marching war machine.

Mina and the Sidereal Tristan seemed intent on slowing the warstrider, making high speed attacks against it, hitting and retreating, avoiding the huge, deadly blade and the stomping feet.

She dropped into the battle, shifting to human form, arms snapping with electrical energy. Slamming into the chest she fired too rapid punches into the carapace, the air around her smelling of ozone as the bright discharges lit up the night.

For a moment she thought she had ended it.

Then the warstrider brought its whip sword around, forcing Lightning to leap away to avoid the weapon.

She landed bad, fell backwards, rolled to her feet.

A flurry of arrows shot over her head, rattling across the warstrider's armour like hail on a thin metal roof. The warstrider actually took a step back, giving Lightning a moment get clear of the machine and its sword.

Mina was close. She pointed towards Meep and Courtesan. "Let them run this."

Lightning wanted to ask what she was planning, but Mina gave her a push, sending her stumbling back, as the same time she herself jumped backwards.

The warstrider's huge whip sword crashed down on street where they had just stood.

Lightning shifted form, taking on the appearance of a large cat the size of a pony. She would harry the warstirder as she had seen Mina and Tristan do. Hopefully she would learn the rest of the plan.

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* * *

The rain had made her footing unstable, treacherous at times, but the Faded Maiden had not slowed her headlong sprint. When she fell she would simply roll to her feet, continue on. The armour protected her, let her smash through small barriers. She would not be denied and at that moment was like a juggernaut, feet pounding as she sped towards her target.

She saw the warstrider first, it was a large shadow, moving through the city, illuminated by the occasional flashes of lightning. Who was this death knight who called himself Ration that he had access to such a weapon. Certainly this news would interest her master.

But that was for later.

Using the warstrider to set her bearing she made her approach.

Coming around a set of buildings, onto a long, straight road, she spotted Courtesan through the falling rain. The woman stood on a roof, firing arrows at the warstrider.

"Courtesan," she nearly growled.

Now she had seen her true target.

Now nothing would stop her.

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* * *

Not entirely certain what Meep wanted Courtesan had continued to fire arrows at the warstrider, seeking out gaps in its armour that she might pierce. Then she would run, following after Meep.

The low buildings that they had been using were growing scarce, replaced with taller towers.

Meep grabbed her arm, just after she had fired an arrow.

"There," Meep said, pointing at the lit up entrance hall of one of the towers.

"What?"

"Just follow me."

Courtesan looked back towards the warstrider, then to Meep.

"Trust me." She smiled, barely visible through the thick rain.

It was not in Courtesan's nature to trust, not when she had lived and especially not after her Dark Exaltation. But she wanted to trust Meep. To trust someone.

She nodded.

Meep leapt from the building, Courtesan close on her heels.

At the doors to the brightly lit lobby a guard stood, wrapped up tightly against the rain.

He called out for them to stop, but Courtesan was on him before he could do anything else, grabbing and throwing him off to the side in a perfect display of using a bigger opponents strength against them. She turned and held up a set of keys. "Easier than stealing panties."

"I'll take your word for it."

Meep opened the lobby doors so they could enter.

Inside, out of the wind and rain, it was quiet, warm, dry.

Courtesan shook out her hair. "I could really use a towel."

"No time, come on." Meep rushed towards a set of elevators. She looked through the keys, found one. "This tower has elevators that work. It's why I picked it. That and it is tall."

"Picked it for what?"

"I'll explain on our way up." The door to the elevator had opened.

They stepped in, the door closing behind them, a moment later the car ascending.

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* * *

Faded Maiden nearly tore the doors from their mountings as she threw them open, her metal clad feet crashing loudly on the glass tiled floor as she stepped in and out of the rain.

The lobby was empty, but on the far wall lights lit up above an elevator shaft.

She checked the other elevators, but they were all locked.

With a growl she turned to the one in use and used her axe to rend the doors, knocking them into the shaft.

Putting the axe across her back and out of the way the Faded Maiden jumped up into the shaft. She caught hold of seam in the glass construction, brought her legs up to her chest, then pushed off, propelling herself higher up the shaft.

Repeating the process she went up the shaft in bounds, rapidly climbing after the car.

"I am coming for you Courtesan."

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* * *

Mina was wounded. The bleeding had stopped, and the rain had washed away the blood, but there was jagged rip across the material over her left shoulder, and the skin under was deeply lacerated, wet and red.

The warstrider had tagged her, it getting lucky or or she getting unlucky, she was not sure. It hurt but hardly slowed her; not yet.

Tristan had lost his suit jacket, his soaked shirt torn in a few places. She had seen him sent rolling by a glancing a kick from the warstrider.

Lightning, currently in the form of a huge bear, pushing at the warstider, had been wounded many times, but the wounds had closed quickly and she seemed unharmed.

All three of them were surrounded by the light of their animas, shining like forges.

Close by she spotted movement, soldiers.

They stood, uncertain, she knew they were seeing demons as well as the warstrider and likely had no idea what to do.

The warstrider lifted his sword, lashed it around.

"Look out!" Mina screamed at the soldiers even as she lifted her own weapon, ready to block the attack.

The guards either did not hear her over the storm, or they were transfixed with fear, but they were not able to avoid the attack that cut several in half and left the few who survived badly wounded.

Mina turned to avoid the continuing sweep of the whip sword.

Her gaze went to the roof of the building she had seen Meep and Courtesan enter.

Close now.

She had to trust in Meep.

Moving forward, serpent sting staff moving about her, she closed on the warstrider, rapidly shifting her stances as she moved to avoid its attacks. "Push!" she yelled, snapping her staff around the huge leg.

Lightning pitted the strength of her form against the warstrider's hip, driving it back and Mina strained against its leg.

Together they sent if stumbling back towards the building.

Mina was breathing heavily. She looked up at bear Lightning. "Almost," she said with a gasp, "there."

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Tristan had to take a moment to lean on his wrack staff. He was not a Dawn nor a Full Moon Caste and did not take to battle as easily as they did. He watched the two moving like precision machines, each having easily learned the moves of the other. Already they were almost moving as one.

Would that they were mates. He had never seen it of course, but he had read ancient accounts of the battle efficacy that a mated Solar and Lunar might have.

Even without the bond the two battle masters of the Exalts were standing toe to toe with a royal warstrider and while not winning were certainly not loosing.

He was ready to move forward and rejoin them in whatever crazy plan Mina and Meep had come up with when he spotted something.

A newcomer to the battle.

One he recognized from an earlier description.

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a prayer strip which he wrapped around his wrack staff. The words on it glowed with a soft, red light.

 _Once there was a maiden…_

 _…who saw her murderer enter through the front door_

 _and stab her through the chest._

 _As her blood spilled upon the floor_

 _it grew into an ocean_

 _and when it receded_

 _it was her blade that pierced the murderer's chest._

 _"How?" her murderer asked, looking down as his life blood spilt from the wound._

 _She said, "I let you enter as a guest."_

Tristan was gone.

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Cold Rain watched as the Solar and a bear he assumed was the Lunar fought the warstrider. They were fighting alone, the others were off, well, he had no idea, but it was an opening he had not hoped he would get.

Son of Crows' insanity had served them well as it turned out.

All he had to do was strike the Solar and Lunar now, while they were distracted, provide an opening for Son of Crows. Hopefully Son of Crows was not so far gone that he would not recognize an ally.

It seemed he was a little kill crazy.

As he prepared to move something crashed down onto his head.

His knees folded as his vision swam, darkness rushing in from the sides, ears ringing. The skin at his brow darkened and bruised as his caste mark formed. Dark essence drove the encroaching blackness back, put steel in his knees as he stood, spinning about.

Scythe rang out against wrack staff. Cold Rain's attacker was a man in grey trousers and a torn shirt. He was surrounded by misty cloud of green light, picked out with bright lights like stars.

The wrack staff slid forward, raising sparks from the blade of the scythe, the end cracking him hard in the chest. Cold Rain stumbled back a step but managed to counter, the attack not hitting but keeping his attacker, he had to be a Sidereal, from following up on the attack.

"I've never killed a Sidereal before," Cold Rain said, his bravado hopefully not ringing as false as it was. He was off his game at the moment and had no idea what he faced.

"I would not be too certain of that, though likely any alleged victim did not stay dead beyond a required time."

The words were cryptic but Cold Rain ignored them as he looked for an opening. The man stood easily, wrack staff held loosely in is hands. There was something wrapped around it, a paper strip, glowing red letters seemed to be dripping red ink in the rain.

Cold Rain's form and weapon blurred as his weapon existed many times in that moment, his blows coming from everywhere at once. The wrack staff moved about in a lazy arc that turned every one of his blows.

As Cold Rain spun to the side the Sidereal was untouched, but for a small cut across his collar bone.

That should have taken his head off.

The Sidereal attacked in the moment Cold Rain was finding his stable stance. A feint to his eyes, then the other end swung down to crack hard against his ankle. The bone held, but his foot, not as well placed as it should have been, slid on the wet road and Cold Rain fell to one knee.

Blindly he thrust the shaft of his scythe up, catching the falling wrack staff across his weapon. The sound of them coming together was loud, in his mind he thought it might rival the occasional rolls of thunder. The strength of blow went through his wrists and elbows and shoulders, hurting enough that he was glad that he had not taken it across his skull.

Standing he twisted the scythe, driving the blade along the staff towards the hands holding it. The Sidereal released his endangered hand and with his other hand spun the weapon up and around him.

Cold Rain pushed his attack at that moment, using the butt end of his scythe, lifting it and turning, the end catching the Sidereal under the chin.

The damn man rolled with it, but Cold Rain was willing to bet he felt it.

The glowing red ink on the paper seemed to be running faster now, making the words illegible.

Cold Rain did not relent, kept moving forward.

* * *

LineBreak

* * *

Down on the streets the winds of the storm were cut somewhat by the tall buildings, but up on those buildings the winds were powerful enough that they threatened to pick a person up and throw them off.

Meep blinked against the falling rain and wind.

They had taken the elevator up as high as it could go, then took the stairs. Now they stood on the broken floor, easily forty stories up. From the ground the remainder of walls had looked like a jagged crown. Up close they were walls of glass, some sixty feet tall.

"How do you expect to break one of those free?" Courtesan yelled over the sound of the wind.

The Abyssal looked terrible. Her doll like clothes hanging from her with the weight of the water and her hair bereft of its curls, plastered to her head and face. Like a kitten that had fallen into the bath.

"With style and panache, and everything I learned about breaking vaults."

Meep looked up at the glass. "That is not a vault."

"Oh, but the basic ideas should be the same I would think my dears. It's all about material sciences." Someone called.

Both Meep and Courtesan looked towards Del Pret.

Like Meep the Alchemical wore more practical clothing, so the rain did not make her look as bedraggled as Courtesan. There was a glow about her in the rain, as if some the strange devices on her, in her really, reacted somehow with the falling water.

"What are you doing here?" Meep asked over the sound of the storm.

"I'm here to help of course dears," she said, all bright tones and smiles with too perfect teeth. "I thought you were up to something and when I saw you enter the building it made sense."

"How did you get up here?" Courtesan asked, brushing hair from her eyes.

"Oh," she said with a matter of fact tone, "I climbed."

How she managed to climb was something that Meep would really like to pursue, but there was no time. "Well, I'm glad you're her to help." She ran across the rainy, windy roof, was lifted off her feet by an errant up draft, then dropped close to a jagged section of glass that was probably thirty feet tall. Using it to steady herself she leaned out over the roof.

Below her, not quite directly under her, but close enough, were the doors to the lobby, and she could see the warstrider, still being pushed towards the building. Could see the silver and gold fire that surrounded the attackers harrying the war machine.

She knelt down, the glass acting as a bit of a wind break.

One of her spiders had crawled down her arm and was affixed to her wrist. She used the blade to score the glass along the edge.

Del Pret and Courtesan had approached as she worked. "We'll need to cut it deep here," she indicated the score line, "and here." She cut another line in the glass. "That should weaken it enough to break it free and drop it just right."

Courtesan just looked on with disbelief but Del Pret moved closer, her eyes glowing as she examined the glass. "That should work, but the wind could blow it anywhere."

Meep shook her head. "It will drop where I need it."

Del Pret seemed to be willing to accept that. She brought out one of her chakram with the spinning saw teeth. "I'll cut along here."

Meep nodded and looked at Courtesan. "Do you think you can put some holes in the glass, back there?" She pointed. "About four feet up."

Courtesan nodded and took her bow from her shoulder.

"Good," she said loudly, then drawing on her essence made the first, deep cut. Her anima began to glow, a golden marker that Mina would surely see.

Even over the sound of the storm she heard the crashing sound of the door being hacked from its hinges.

She and the others turned towards the entrance to the stairs.

A figure encased completely in armour, a huge axe in its hands, stood in the broken doorway. In a rough voice it screamed, "Courtesan!"

Meep looked between the new comer and Courtesan.

She could see Courtesan trembling.

"What a bother," Meep said as she straightened.

"I'll deal with her," Courtesan said. She sounded as scared as she look.

She also sounded certain.

Meep looked over at Del Pret. "Better her than me dear."

"Good luck," Meep said in a cheerful tone, then returned to her work on the glass.

* * *

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* * *

Courtesan did not understand the relationship between Meep and Mina.

But she wanted to.

And she was certain that if the Faded Maiden was after either of them, the other would not run.

She walked towards the armoured figure, arrow knocked, drawing it back.

The Faded Maiden charged her.

Blood flowed from the caste mark on Meep's brow and clouds of red spun about her as she released her arrow and put it right through the visor in the Faded Maiden's helm.

* * *

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* * *

Too angry, the Faded Maiden thought.

Had she not jerked her head to the side the arrow would have punched through her head. She could not forget that Courtesan was skilled with a bow.

Even though she had avoided the mortal wound the head of the arrow had cut deeply across the side of her head, slicing the tip of her ear off. She could feel the blood flowing down the side of her head.

As she advanced with more care she noted the green jade bow that the other Abyssal carried.

She had dared to toss aside the bow their master had given her?

A red haze of anger settled about the Faded Maiden as she charged forward.

* * *

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* * *

Sunlight at the top of the tower, the light of an anima.

Mina had pointed it out to Lightning as subtly as possible.

She could not let the pilot of the warstrider know what they planned, what she assumed they planned. They were likely to get only once chance at this.

She advanced, her serpent sting staff knocking aside the whip sword as she spent essence to accomplish the impossible.

* * *

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* * *

The sword's jagged teeth cut her again, but Lightning did not let it slow her. She was surrounded by a cloud of silver for she had increased her strength greatly and the huge bear form she wore was pushing the warstrider back, towards the tower on which the light of an anima burned as a marker.

She felt another tear of the whip sword as the jagged chevrons tore through the thick, matted fur.

With a bellow louder than the storm she slammed her huge paws into the upper leg of the warstrider. She managed to put shallow dents in the armour, left scores in the metal, and sent it stumbling back.

* * *

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* * *

Son of Crows hung suspended in his warstrider's fuselage, laughing as he moved about, pulling on the leather and wire straps, making the huge suit's limbs move. He was surrounded by a cloud of blood, his strikes often fuelled by essence and the dark magic of the Underworld keeping the exhaustion at bay.

He had never fought a real battle before, not one against other Exalts.

It was truly amazing.

He did not know where the little archer had fled, but he was certain he would find her again.

The two that fought at his feet had kept him from her. Now they harried him with their mostly ineffectual attacks.

They thought they could beat him.

That made him laugh even louder.

* * *

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* * *

Courtesan stumbled, blood flowing from a deep cut in her outer thigh. She tripped backwards, almost falling as the injured leg was forced to take her weight. Forced to put even more weight on it, she moved to her wounded side, away from where Meep and Del Pret worked.

The Faded Maiden advanced with brutal attacks, the axe was unstoppable as it cut out, until with what must be a punishing effort, The Faded Maiden stopped it and then reversed the swing.

It was all Courtesan could do to avoid those attacks.

Since the first arrow she had put into the Faded Maiden's helm she had not managed to fire another arrow.

As she fell back from those deadly attacks she looked about the battle field. The glass they stood on was slick with rain water, a flat sheet that splashed up wth each step.

She noted one place where the water did not form a layer; where it drained away through the surface.

She fell back towards it, making her flight look desperate.

* * *

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* * *

The Delightful and Precise Mechanism of Truth made a series of cuts, watching as Meep marked up the glass.

"This will fall in a most interesting manner," she said softly.

Meep might have heard her, or guessed her words, for she smiled and made another score in the glass.

Del Pret leaned over the glass, looking down at the street.

It looked like the warstrider was almost in position.

Such a shame for if they succeeded they were going to ruin a machine like that.

Though with the blowing wind she really did not know how Meep ever thought this would work.

Solars were so exciting to work with.

* * *

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* * *

"I am going to kill you," Cold Rain snarled as she tried to find a break in the Sidereal's defence.

The sidereal stabbed his staff down, catching the blade of the scythe, driving it to the ground, then pushed the other end right into Cold Rain's face.

There was not a lot of strength behind it, but Cold Rain felt his nose begin to bleed.

The paper wrapped around the staff seemed to be crumbling, the red ink having run into complete ineligibility.

The Sidereal smiled. "Be my guest."

Cold Rain screamed.

* * *

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* * *

Each axe blow brought Courtesan's death closer. Already the Faded Maiden had cut her twice, wounds that would have been mortal to anyone but an Exalt. She smiled at Courtesan's panicked flight, at her futile attempts to avoid her death.

Soon she would return to her master with Courtesan's head.

The glass between her feet was suddenly rough in texture, drier that that she had been on. Finally solid footing with which to launch a devastating attacks. She planted her rear foot and pushed.

The surface under her foot splintered and shattered.

She fell forward, both feet suddenly caught up in broken glass.

Ahead of her Courtesan stopped her retreat, arrow nocked, drawn back.

She had led her into a trap, the Faded Maiden realized as Courtesan released her arrow.

Screaming she felt the arrow pierce her eye.

The dark cloud of blood around her grew and resolved into the shape of a grand mausoleum, across it doors were written unspeakable words of madness. With a deep, musical gong the doors opened and darkness rushed out, surrounding the Faded Maiden.

The wound healed even as it was made.

She reached up and pulled the arrow free, her vision swimming as the ruined eye reformed.

Pushing forward, the glass that had trapped her was smashed, she swung the axe, the darkness wrapping around it, driving it forward with a will that could not be denied.

Somehow Courtesan managed to swing her bow around, blocking the axe. However the blow tore the weapon from her hands and flung it off into open air.

Screams, hers and those that echoed from the mausoleum, at being denied.

She lifted the axe but Courtesan had disappeared.

* * *

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* * *

Cold Rain felt as if for a moment reality had blurred.

He had been certain that he had scored a finishing blow on the Sidereal.

But instead the end of the staff had thumped into his chest, breaking bones.

He fell back, pain blossoming in his chest.

The Sidereal stood there, almost certainly smiling.

Cold Rain fled.

* * *

LineBreak

* * *

Tristan watched the Abyssal retreat.

He did not follow.

Turning he looked at the fight with the warstrider.

Too late to help there, all he could do was watch and see if Mina and the others were successful.

Shaking the last of the prayer strip from his wrack staff her dropped to one knee and coughed up blood.

* * *

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* * *

Behind him loomed one of the huge towers of glass.

Son of Crows laughed, and bared his pointed teeth in a shark's smile.

With the building at his back he wound turn the battle around.

They would drive him back no longer.

* * *

LineBreak

* * *

Courtesan dropped to her back, laid out flat beneath the Faded Maiden's feet on the cold, rain slick glass.

She was completely defenceless.

But, for a moment, the Faded Maiden had lost sight of her.

She reached out, touched the dreams of the Neverborn once more. Their voices were in her head, but as before still muted by her collar.

Once more from those dreams she drew a war bow, black and ornate, its surface marked with the faces of hundred of dolls, each serene, at rest.

Forming an arrow of pure essence, snatched from the dreams of the Neverborn as the bow had been, she drew back.

From below she picked her target, where the soulsteel plate over the inner thigh gave way to chain, placed there for mobility.

The arrow sliced up into the Faded Maiden, sending her stumbling back a few steps, blood flowing from between her legs.

But she did not die.

With a cry of anger and pain she stopped her backwards fall and stepped forward, axe raised.

Then her feet were suddenly yanked out from under her and she ended up crashing face first on the wet glass.

Beyond her she saw Meep and Del Pret, pulling hard on a rope that had been looped around the Faded Maiden's feet.

Meep raised one of her golden spider blades, reached out, and indicated a spot on the glass.

Courtesan lifted her bow, took aim, fired.

The arrow blew a jagged hole in the glass and the glass began to crack.

* * *

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* * *

Meep watched the wall begin to fall, the steel glass of Chiaroscuro not shattering as lesser glasses might, but sheering like metal.

It leaned out, fracturing along the cuts she and Del Pret had put in it.

She took the end of her rope, looped it over one of the projections on the glass, then leaped out, onto the glass, her slight weight speeding the fall.

She clung to the surface, fingers splayed out.

The glass fell so it was parallel to the street far below.

With musical, chime-like retorts the last of the glass still holding the wall to the building cracked.

The glass pitched down.

Meep smiled as her anima flared, becoming a huge, golden fox, surrounding her, the golden flames roaring like growl.

Golden light suffused the glass as it stopping being a falling piece of building and became a weapon. She imparted a tiny amount of force to it, and a vast amount of purpose.

It no longer fell, a piece of wreckage blown about by storm winds, but an object undeniably tied to its target by all the essence she had spent on it.

Gracefully Meep kicked free of it and landed upon the roof close to where Del Pret stood.

She spun, as if dancing, and avoided the armoured form of the axe wielder as it was yanked along by the rope that attached attacker and falling glass.

"Good bye," Meep called.

Courtesan rushed by her, leapt from the roof, dropping and firing arrows after the attacker.

"Oh my, that was a surprise."

Meep did not reply to Del Pret. She kicked the toes of her left foot against the glass, leaving part of her body suit behind, then she leapt after Courtesan.

* * *

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* * *

Back now protected by the building Son of Crows shifted his stance, raised his sword.

His laughter amplified by the warstrider he lay about him, seeking to end those that attacked him.

* * *

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* * *

The silver flame around Lightning grew and took on the form of a five women in silver, the aspects of Luna. There was the huntress, the navigator, the two faced bride, the silver horned watcher and the walker at the crossroads. The five paced a circle around Lightning, moving widdershins, soft voices raised in an almost inaudible chorus.

Her bear form slammed into the warstrider, pinning it. The wounds that the whip sword inflicted on her filled with silverfire and healed almost immediately.

* * *

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* * *

Mina ducked in closed to the warstriders feet and once more wrapped her staff around one of the lower legs. She pulled the sections of the staff tight, crushing the metal around the leg inward.

She felt the impossible strength of the huge armour as it tried to break free, but she held tight, buying Meep the seconds she needed.

Above her she could see the glow of sunlight and knew that Meep had acted.

* * *

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* * *

Later Meep would hear people describe a gigantic fox of golden light that had gripped a shard of broken glass in its jaws and run it down the side of the building. In her fall she saw faces looking out as she fell past, saw them turning their eyes away from the light so bright it would leave a trail of faintly bleached glass behind.

Ahead of her Courtesan fell, firing her arrows at the armoured figure.

She was obviously completely mad.

* * *

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* * *

When Courtesan had fallen from the Mask of Winters' citadel there had been many protrusions that had allowed her and the others involved in that fight to slow their descent.

No such things for this plummet.

Just slick glass and the hard ground below.

However she did not care.

Her entire focus was on seeing the Faded Maiden dead.

She was surrounded by a conflagration of darkblood and black light. Those that looked out as she fell past saw terrors flash past them, in the iconic form of the Maiden's anima and the dark fire of Courtesan.

* * *

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* * *

It was not the light of the sun that made the Son of Crows look up, but the approaching dread that wafted off the Iconic Anima flare, like heat from a fire.

Darkness boiling above him not enough to mask the glass wedge descending on him, shot through with golden sunlight.

He tried to move, but the bear clad in silver held him, and the foot of his warstrider would not move.

With a scream he made one last attempt to break free.

* * *

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* * *

Meep was nearly naked when she passed through Courtesan's anima flare, the light of her fox seeming to burn away some of it. Still, she shivered as she touched it and immediately wanted a bath.

Behind her, a long, thin cable, most of her body suit trailed out, anchoring her to the far off roof. All she had left was a thin band that went around her ankle.

Reaching out she grabbed Courtesan about the hips, holding tight.

The cable of her body suit stopped playing out, started contracting, slowing her and Courtesan's fall.

She could feel Courtesan's scream, tight as she was holding her, and knew the woman was still firing arrows.

The cable brought them to a jerking stop and started dragging them up as the armoured figure and the glass she was tethered to continued down.

* * *

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* * *

At the last moment Lightning pushed hard against the warstrider, driving herself away from it just before the glass hit.

* * *

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* * *

Leaving her serpent sting staff still wrapped around the leg Mina stepped back, into the lobby of the building, pushing the door closed just as the glass hit.

* * *

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* * *

The glass had to weigh at least as much as his warstrider. Wedge shaped, the leading edge was a blade of razor sharp glass.

Son of Crows twisted like smoke in his restraints as that edge sheared the warstrider's left arm and leg right off, cutting open the fuselage.

The ghost that was housed in the mass of soul steel howled in pain.

Son of Crows laughed as he cut himself free.

* * *

LineBreak

* * *

Del Pret reached down and hauled Courtesan and Meep back onto the roof.

She looked down at the ground far below.

"Nice shot dear," she said.


	14. Chapter 14

**End and Beginnings**

The form of the bear seemed to melt away as Lightning walked among broken glass and soulsteel. The five aspects of Luna still circled her, the huntress watching her, smiling. As she approached the twisted, armoured form she was once more completely human.

The Faded Maiden lay on the ground, pieced through by many arrows and a single spear of glass wreckage.

Probably dead.

Lightning drove her sword through the woman, piercing her armour through and through. Then the moonsilver tattoos on her arms flashed and lightning rushed down the blade.

Smoke began to escape from the visor of the armour.

The Lunar dragged her dailkiave free and then took the Faded Maiden's helmed head off.

* * *

Falling glass and the bulk of the warstrider had jammed the doors shut.

Mina had to exit the building from a side door and then run around to the front of the building.

She climbed the side of the warstider's frame, cutting her hands on glass and jagged steel.

The fuselage was empty.

Hanging twenty feet in the air by bloody hands she cast her gaze about, seeking the escaped enemy.

After a moment she snarled angrily.

The bastard had got away.

* * *

Several minutes later the six Exalts stood some near the building, looking at the wreckage of the glass and warstrider. They made no attempt at stealth. Not that it would made made a difference if they did, for their anima banners shone brightly and two of them had gone iconic.

"One of them is dead," Mina said, looking at the form of the Faded Maiden, "and we've taken away their most powerful weapon, but we've not changed things too much."

None of the other disagreed with her calculus.

"I think I can get rid of Cold Rain," Lightning told them. "I'll need to move fast."

"Will you need help?" Courtesan asked, small voice almost lost in the sound of the rain.

Mina saw the angry look that Lightning turned on the small woman. She then looked away and with a flat voice said, "No. I'll handle this."

"What are you going to do?" Meep asked her.

"Hit him where he lives." Lightning smiled. "I have a great deal of information about what he has been up to here. I found one of his spies."

Her form flowed and where she had been stood a black ration.

It cawed at them and then took to the air.

The five silver women who circled the Lunar grew wings and followed.

"What does that mean?" Mina asked.

"I think it means she ate the heart of this Cold Rain's Familiar," Tristan said. "Took its forms and its memories." The Sidereal looked tired, his skin pale. Mina could see he was shivering slightly in the rain as he leaned on his staff.

"They can really do such things?" Del Pret asked, her tone one of awe.

"Yes."

"Truly the work of the Great Maker and the gods is wondrous."

Mina did not disagree. "We should move out, wait for our animas to fade before going to ground."

"That does sound like a most sensible plan." Tristan stopped leaning on his staff, straitening.

"Guards and soldiers will be here soon, and in numbers," Meep said.

"And if we move fast we might not have to kill any of them."

* * *

The bulk of the City Guard arrived at the battle site to find the ruined war strider and the dead Abyssal. There were other dead, scattered about, mostly other members of the guard who had been unlucky enough to stumble upon whatever had been happening.

The Guard Captain, a Delzahn noble named Kerfen, ordered his men to set up a permitter around the area. He then sent some to report to the Tri-Khan's palace and sent others to enter the nearby buildings to ask the residents what they might have seen.

He spared a few men to chase after the stories of giant foxes of light and golden bonfires.

* * *

Cold Rain wandered among the ruins of the Chiaroscuro, bone tired and feeling beaten. How many times had he been forced to run from a battle now? What powers were conspiring against him? Were the Neverborn themselves colluding against him in secret? The Yozis? The Deathlords? Was it the power of Heaven?

He could not believe that his poor luck was just random chance.

The old morgue was quiet, cool, empty.

Something bothered him.

He nearly ran to the drawer where he had left the zombie. Yanking it open he discovered it empty.

No, not quite empty. There was a black feather at the bottom of the drawer.

He reached in and picked it up, turning it by the quill. A ration feather.

Where was Baron? The connection he had felt to his familiar had been uncertain for a time. Occupied by other things on his mind he had not given it much thought, but now that missing connection was like a missing tooth.

Looking about the room he saw another feather, lying by a door.

He picked up the feather, pushed the door open. There was a ruined corridor beyond. Ambrose had warned that the roof might collapse, so Cold Rain had never ventured down it. Now he did.

Another feather at the bottom of stairs that led up into the building.

Cold Rain knew the building the morgue was attached to had once been a hospital. It had been a large structure, thought several floors had collapsed, compressing what had once been many floors into just a handful.

Feathers led him on and up, until he finally found a hole that took him to the ruin of the roof.

The sun was raising, but thick clouds made the oncoming day simply grey.

On the western part of the room a familiar woman stood, her hands wrapped around the shoulders of the zombie, holding it steady.

"You've made a mistake, coming here," he called.

"Drowned in a Cold Rain by a Mother's Hand," Lightning called out to him. "A title that tells all."

Cold Rain started towards her, slow, measured steps. "I am going to kill you."

"And of course the joke, as it were, was that you killed your mother, animated her as a zombie, and have her with you at all times."

Cold Rain did not answer.

"But of course that is not true, is it?"

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"Not dead, but somehow trapped in this rotting husk of flesh. That is the true cruelty."

"Stop wasting time. I am going to kill you," he told her, keeping his voice steady.

"Still alive, still alive." Lightning gave the zombie's shoulders a twist, spinning it away from her.

For a moment Cold Rain thought that Lightning planned to send the body to him, forcing him to give up defence to catch it.

"Still alive," Lightning was chanting as she swung her daiklaive. "Dead." The blade sheared the head from zombie.

"No!"

She drove her blade through the zombies chest.

Lightning crackled along its length, setting the body to flame.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed, charging forward, unconcerned with his footing or any trap. That he had kept that woman alive for so long was all her could think of.

Lightning lifted a foot and drove it down on the head, the skull crushed under her foot, the glass beneath it cracking. "Destroyed," she said, pulling her daiklaive free and waiting for him.

Cold Rain knew she had baited him.

He knew he was likely running to his doom.

He did not care.

His mother had been killed.

Then something hit him, folding him around his stomach. The air exploded from his lungs and spots danced in his vision.

* * *

Lightning waited for Cold Rain to come and die.

He came at her, full of childish rage, not caring he was completely open.

But then another appeared, slamming a first into Cold Rain's gut, stopping the mad charge. He swung Cold Rain up onto his shoulder and turned towards her.

He wore a suit torn in several places, high heels, his long, reddish purple, curly hair covered his eyes. His smile was that of a shark.

"How cruel," he laughed, "killing this poor man's mother. Quite the wonderful monster aren't you."

Lightning looked around, wondering if there were others about.

"I think I had better take Cold Rain away. But don't worry monster, together we'll find you and pay you back fro what you did."

Lightning took a few steps forward, then stopped, recalling how her trap could be easily turned against her.

"Keep looking over your shoulder monster," he laughed at her, then he turned, a black cloud raising up around him. The cloud and the man, with Cold Rain, disappeared at the same time.

"Maidens Fuck Me," Lightning said, sharpening her senses with essence.

The air was full of the smell of the storm, of rain, of the burnt body at her feet, but nothing but a fading scent of Cold Rain and his rescuer.

He looked down at the dead body.

"At least you're free."

It was no victory.

* * *

The Tri-Khan, dressed in bright silks over glass armour, rode at the head of Bilsheks Band, a 400 strong unit led by his cousin; Bilshek Kahn.

The events of the night had upset the city. He came to the towers around the Field of Gold to remind the people of the city that he still ruled, he came with 400 men, all on horse, to remind them of the power he commanded.

With him were two Dragon Blood, both fire aspects, on loan from the Realm garrison.

The diplomats and spies needed to know what happened there as well, with tals of golden fires, and a huge golden fox, and women of silver light come down from the moon.

Not talk they could safely ignore.

They were no more than a minute away when a rider on a horse galloped dangerously fast towards the Tri-Khan. He watched the rider, giving the man his grudging respect. He rode his horse well. Guards had moved up in front, including the two terrestrials.

The rider slowed his horse to a stop, raised his hands. "I must speak to the Tri-Khan!"

Bilshek had moved forward. "I am Bilshek Kahn. You may speak to me."

The horseman nodded. The Tri-Khan could see him take a deep breath. "They are dead, all of them."

"Who is dead?" Bilshek demanded.

"The City Guard under Kerfen, one hundred men guarding the perimeter, all dead. I was sent out to investigate what people in the buildings saw. When I returned…"

Bilshek ordered twenty men to go forward and investigate.

The two Terrestrials went with them.

The Tri-Khan was impatient, but he made himself hide it as he sat relaxed on his horse. Close by Bilshek continued to question the rider. The Tri-Khan heard the complete story.

The advance group returned about ten minutes later. Once they had reported to Bilshek he rode his horse over to the Tri-Khan. "There seems no danger, but all the men are dead, as reported." He lowered his voice. "No marks on them, but each face frozen in terror." He paused. "And the warstrider that we were told was there, it is gone."

"Gone?"

"A huge piece of glass, a few shards of black metal, nothing else."

"I wish to see it."

Bilshek lifted his sword. "Forward."

The Tri-Khan looked to one of the riders with him. His clerk rode up close.

"Ride back to the palace, draft a proclamation. All Terrestrials or those with awakened essence who live in this city will report to the palace two days from now to take up a charge for me. Any who do not appear will be exiled from Chiaroscuro on pain of death."

Bilshek still rode close by. "You planning something cousin?"

"We've let things get out of control I fear. It is time to remind all that the Delzahn control this city."

"There was never any doubt." Bilshek smiled.

* * *

Ambrose had travelled into the Underworld, some distance from the city of Chiaroscuro. In a hidden meeting place he found Princess Magnificent with Lips of Coral and Robes of Black Feathers waiting.

He dropped to his knees, pressed his head to the ground, and waited for her to kill him.

He counted thirty rapid heartbeats before she said, "Get up Ambrose."

He stood. "I apologize for this failure."

"You apologize? A ghost blooded Terrestrial, a necromancer? You forget your place Ambrose."

"Yes. I am sorry."

Several long seconds passed before she said. "I am not displeased with the events in Chiaroscuro."

Ambrose had to stop his mouth from falling open so surprised was he by that statement.

"I do not deal in concepts as simple as success and failure. There have been benefits."

Ambrose nodded, but he could think of no benefits.

As if she could read his mind she said, "I now know something of the city's protectors, and of the value of Son of Crows." She shook her head. "He has proven to be a disappointment."

Ambrose only nodded once more.

"The warstrider has been retrieved, the Lion will never know what happened and even if he were to find out he will chose not to see it, the fool."

Again Ambrose nodded.

"Return to the city. Evacuate anyone who is irreplaceable, take any material goods that are valuable."

"And the rest?"

She smiled. "Leave it. Something for the Tri-Khan to find. We will let the mortals and any allies they can find clean up the city for us. I am not finished in Chiaroscuro. When I send you back it will be easier to operate in. For now, we shall let this fire, as it were, burn."

"As you say," Ambrose answered, bowing his head low.

* * *

Ropes wrapped around him, hanging him suspended over a broken floor.

Cold Rain thrashed against them, muscles straining as he tried to break free. The ropes creaked, but held.

"Let me go!" he screamed.

"Why?" Son of Crows asked from nearby. He was smiling.

"I will kill that Lunar!"

"You will die!" he laughed.

"She killed my mother!"

"They destroyed my warstrider! What do you think is worse? Your broken mother trapped in dead flesh could not have lasted much longer." Son of Crows closed and grabbed the ropes around Cold Rain and pulled him close. "She did you a favour. She freed you from trash."

The words shocked Cold Rain slightly, and he stopped struggling for a moment.

Son of Crows held him close with one hand, this other sweeping his hair aside from his face, revealing his eyes. Almost black eyes staring into Cold Rain's. "Let's kill her, but on our terms. Let's find what she cares about and kill it. Let's be the death dogging her heels. Let her be like a plague carrier, and we the plague." He began to giggle, high pitched. "Then when she realizes what she unleashed for her crimes against us, then we kill her."

The madness in Son of Crow's gaze felt as if it was seeping into Cold Rain's bones, and he did not feel as if he wanted to resist.

He was free.

All those things that had tied him to the Mask of Winters, including the Death Lord himself, were gone.

He nodded. "You're right. Let's leave death in our wake."

With a laugh Son of Crows let his hair fall back across his eyes as he drew forth a knife and used it to cut Cold Rain's bonds.

Cold Rain dropped lightly to the ground, smiling.

He could kill that Lunar, but he would do it right. It might take time, but he would be sure the savour it.

* * *

The storm had blown itself out and now ships that had sheltered in Chiaroscuro's break waters were preparing to sail.

Near one of the docks a longboat was being loaded down with supplies, making ready to return to its ship.

"You don't have to leave," Mina told Lightning. "If you are worried about the Tri-Khan's edict, that is easily avoided."

Lightning shook her head. "It is not the dealings of mortals that concerns me, but I need to keep moving. We killed one assassin, however there might be others. I am fairly certain that Cold Rain will leave the city when I do."

"So he will be chasing you now?"

"I would be surprised if he wasn't."

Mina nodded, then looked down at the long boat, nearly fully loaded, then over to where Courtesan and Meep spoke. "Tell me why I should not take Courtesan from you."

"Pardon?"

"I do not like what is happening between you and Courtesan, Abyssal or not she deserves better."

"You don't know what you are talking about."

"I know a toxic relationship when I see it. I don't like the idea of leaving Courtesan involved with you. So, convince me to not take your collar off her and put mine on her instead."

Mina watched as Lightning grew a few inches taller, heard the soft creak of fabric stretched tight by expanding muscle.

"That would be a bad idea," Lightning's tone was soft.

Mina did not back down. "It would not be the first bad idea I decided to pursue, but I am still here."

"Yet I think that you should accept Lightning's statement about the plan being poorly conceived," Tristan said from where he leaned on his staff beside them.

Both woman turned to look at him.

"Where did you come from?" Lightning demanded.

"I believe that I was here with you from the start, and so do various gods who look after that sort of thing. So I was here with you from the start."

Mina noticed Lightning had relaxed slightly, her height and muscle mass back to normal (or at least what Mina thought of as normal).

"Why shouldn't I do something for Courtesan?"

Tristan and Lightning exchanged glances, something in them that Mina could not read. "There are things going on that I am not at liberty to talk about because at this time they are only suppositions and secrets," he said, "but if I am correct in this then the Abyssal is safest, for lack of a better term, with Lightning."

Mina looked towards Lightning. The Lunar nodded.

"Will you explain this all to me, when you can?"

She had asked both but it was Lightning who answered. "When I can I will tell you everything I can."

Mina looked back at Courtesan. Blonde haired doll of a woman. Haunted. Frightened. Submissive.

She sighed. "Very well. But remember this one thing. Punishment without love is just violence."

"What?"

"Just remember it. You'll likely have need to keep it in mind."

Lightning looked uncertain, but she nodded.

Below them the crew had nearly finished loading the longboat.

Mina suspected they had no idea of the conversation that had happened nearly above them.

"Courtesan!" Lightning called.

Courtesan looked towards Lightning, then back to Meep. The two spoke for a moment before Meep hugged the other woman. Mina thought Courtesan looked uncomfortable for a moment, but then seemed to relax into it.

She walked up the dock, bow case on her shoulder.

As she passed close Mina put a hand on Courtesan's shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"Yes, thank you."

Mina took her hand away.

She watched as the Abyssal approached the Lunar. Lightning was holding herself unnaturally still. Mina thought perhaps she was making sure she did not offer a hand, a hand that she would likely take back a moment before Courtesan could reach for it.

Courtesan dropped smoothly down into the longboat.

Lightning followed.

Both of them raised hands in farewell a few moments later as the sailors started rowing.

"I'm going to miss them," Meep said as she came to stand beside Mina.

"Farewells are just giving us the opportunity to meet again," Tristan said. "Journeys are meant to come full circle."

"What is happening?" Mina asked Tristan.

Tristan did not say anything for a time. "Solars and Lunars change the world. Sidereals watch and advise."

"So Lightning is going to change the world?"

"I believe she is certainly going to try."

* * *

Lightning and Courtesan were not the only Exalts to leave Chiaroscuro by sea. The Tri-Khan's proclamation had made many of those with awakened essence decide to leave the city before it came into effect.

Two of those leaving, however, had no interest in the Tri-Khan's edicts.

Outside of the breakwaters the water were uncertain, rocky and shallow. Those ships that chose to forgo the safety of the harbour were often piloted by the desperate, the greedy, the stupid.

Often all three.

Cold Rain gripped tight to the rigging, hauling on it with his unnatural strength, His Monstrance swung out over the water, towards the deck of the small coaster.

"They will be getting away," he called out loudly, heaving hard on the rope, the ship actually dipping under the strength of his pull.

He was neatly dressed once more, the disarray of the earlier battles cleaned up. In pressed shirt sleeves, and tight trousers, wet from the sea water, he seemed almost a gentleman.

"Oh dear," Son of Crows said from the desk of the ship. He turned around to kick a woman who lay on the deck. "They are getting away. Didn't you hear."

Cold Rain sighed and gave another pull of the line and the Monstrance swung out over the coaster's desk. The Lunar bitch was on a ship. Her only support would be the archer, the other Abyssal. While he had been interested in the possibility of being a plague that followed her, he would happily end her today.

And finally she was to be separated from the other Exalts. The other Exalts that had made him stay his attack even when he had earlier seen the Lunar making for the harbour. The Monstrance nearly fell to the decking as he let the line play rapidly from his hands. He heard the soft cracking of wood as it came to rest, and the ship sunk lower into the shallow water under its weight.

He splashed forward and pulled himself up over the gunnels. "Why aren't we moving?" he demanded.

The woman, the ship's captain, got slowly to her hands and knees and spat blood. "Don't," she gasped, "have enough crew," she gasped again, "to sail."

That desperate, gasping voice reminded him of something, of hands around his throat, of water all around him, of a breathless voice begging for forgiveness.

Cold Rain nodded.

Son of Crows made to kick the captain again but Cold Rain called out, "Stop."

Son of Crows paused, high heeled shoe a hand's breadth away from the Captain's ribs. "But she's not telling us what we want to hear."

Cold Rain turned and walked across the blood soaked deck from the bow of the ship towards the stern, stepping among the bodies. "She is right though. We did kill more than was really necessary to make our point. As enjoyable as it was."

As he walked he chanted, and as he chanted his anima began to flare. A sense of desperation faded a little. He was going to catch the Lunar, eventually.

Son of Crows laughed.

Dead bodies began to push themselves up from the deck.

Cold Rain looked towards the wide eyed captain, smiling. "You have enough crew now. Now we have a ship to chase. If you can't catch them I at least need to know where they are going."

Still laughing Son of Crows dragged the woman to her feet.

* * *

In the vast fastness of the Thousand the ghost of the Faded Maiden was dragged through the hallways. Soul steel chains and manacles held her secure, denying any escape.

Her last failure, her attempt to return to the Walker in Darkness.

Ahead of her large doors were opened and she passed through into an immense chamber.

A short time later she was tossed unceremoniously to the ground. She struggled onto her knees.

"Look at me."

The voice was a deep rumble, a command she could not resist.

She looked up.

The First and Forsaken Lion was easily nine feet all, clad completely in super heavy soul steel plate.

The Faded Maiden knew she was lost. She knew she would betray her master.

"Tell me why the Walker of Darkness sent one of his servants to the South. Tell me everything."

* * *

Author's Notes

Lana Del Rey's Born to Die can serve as the sound track to this story.

* * *

I think these make a fine addition to Secrets and Roguery, the lost chapters if you will. However, to be fair, this story has the same sort of feeling, in that the heroes may not feel if they were properly challenged. Then again, they did fight well and smart, often with a numeric advantage where it mattered, so that is not surprising.

I will say that Lightning and Courtesan have attracted some powerful attention so perhaps smooth sailing is not in their future.


End file.
